


To Regard a Most Illuminate Star

by aliatori



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cultural Differences, Dragons, E is for Epilogue, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Feelings Realization, Political Alliances, Polyamory, Sun and Moon dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: Solastria and Celestrium were once the most powerful of the drachenmarchs. However, an endless series of conflicts has nearly brought both nations to ruin, culminating in the most devastating of them all—the brutal Eclipse War. In response to a series of atrocities perpetuated by both sides, a temporary cease-pact for the length of three turns was enacted. Now, the cease-pact is coming to an end with no plans for restoration or reconciliation in sight.The last chance to save both nations rests in the hands of three women: a young queen with a desperate final offer, a revered leader weary after turns of senseless war, and a former assassin turned diplomat connected to them both. With a shared history full of broken oaths, with hearts steeped in scarlet violence, will they be able to find their way to peace together? Or will old prejudice prevail?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 18
Kudos: 11





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xylianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/gifts).



> Happy birthday, brainshare. I hope you enjoy reading this labour of love both as much as I enjoyed writing it and as much as I love you. And, well, you know what they say.
> 
> If you can't find poly sapphic ladies and their dragons, homemade will do.

**I**

> _To the Illuminate Star Fel Nyxwyrm and her Honored Highdrachen Lufelyix,_
> 
> _Though you know of me, and I’m certain you can guess my identity from the Dawnseal of Solastria this message was marked with, I feel the need to introduce myself properly. My name is Anora’anoraj lee Rayveth, Flarequeen of Solastria, and I am writing this message in the first light of sunrise by my own hand. This is our first direct correspondence and I hope… no, I_ pray _that it will not be our last._
> 
> _I will not lie or mince words with you, for your reputation suggests you have little time for either. Our nations have a long, fraught history between them, one laced with tension and steeped in the blood of human and drachen alike. The peace we enjoy now, in addition to being paid for with an extortionate price, is temporary. At the close of this turn, the cease-pact will end, and Celestrium and Solastria will once again be at war._
> 
> _It is the resumption of the war I wish to avoid at all costs._
> 
> _The loss of Flaremarch Jaycil’lliaci and Highdrachen Lishoth nearly destroyed us. Though Solastria has staggered to its feet, it still carries grief deep within its bones and in the long memories of the drachen who are bonded with us. Please believe me when I say, unlike many members of the Solastria council I had to convince of my plan, that the only ill-will I harbor in this situation is for the actions of my forebears that led us to this point. The first step on the path of reconciliation is accountability, so allow me to be plain:_
> 
> _Though both sides have done wrong, Solastria was the aggressor and escalator in this conflict, and there can be no adequate reparation for the loss of the original Lunar Capitol thirty turns ago. The Eclipse War could have been avoided had we not committed the atrocity that was Lunaris’ destruction, and the fault for that rests solely on Solastria’s shoulders. Which are now, in point of fact, my shoulders—for better or for worse._
> 
> _I am young, and I have taken the throne many, many turns_ _sooner than I’d expected, but I am no fool. I realize you have every right to throw this message in the nearest fire (if indeed fires are such a thing that you have and enjoy in New Lunaris) and laugh as it burns to ash. But if you have made it this far without doing such a thing, I write with a proposal._
> 
> _Quite literally a proposal._
> 
> _Though political marriages between different drachenmarchs have largely fallen out of favour as a negotiation tool, it is one of the last tools I have, and so it is the tool I will take up and attempt to use. Forgive my ignorance in advance—I have no idea if you already have a spouse or consort, or if the culture of the Celestrium, like ours, allows for multiple partnerships of all kinds. Regardless, it is_ myself _I offer to you, Illuminate Star, in hopes that it will build the foundation for a culture of peace and understanding between the last two drachenmarchs yet to achieve this feat._
> 
> _I also realize you do not know me and have no reason to trust me. It is with this in mind that I suggest the following: if you would embark on this journey with me, I would stay in New Lunaris for two seasons as an ambassador of sorts, setting aside both title and throne for that time to live among you and your people. What’s more, I have consulted with Rayveth, and we have agreed she will stay outside of New Lunaris, lest it be seen as an imminent act of aggression or attempt at a threat; I would of course arrange a visit every lunar cycle in order to maintain our bond, but those details can be discussed if and when you agree. If you doubt my intentions, I have heard some Celestrium drachen and their kin have the ability of truesight, and I would be more than willing to submit to any and all questions you would have for me upon my arrival._
> 
> _As I said, I am not a fool, nor am I naïve. I do not expect this to be a match of star-crossed lovers or for us to become the best of friends. All I can hope—breathlessly, anxiously, desperately—is for a chance to prove myself, to forge a mutual understanding between our lands and begin to repair our wounded hearts. Most have told me I may as well try to build a literal bridge between sun and moon, so impossible does this task seem, and perhaps this is where my youth shows most, because I do not believe in impossibility._
> 
> _After all this pain and strife, I find I still have an ember of faith, one I hope to coax to a full-blown flame._
> 
> _Inside you will find enclosed several sheets of parchment. If you choose to reply, please write it on the provided sheets. Once you are finished, you need but expose them to the first light of day, and the sheets will transmute and make their way to me directly._
> 
> _Yours without title or expectation,_
> 
> _Anora_

Once Siv finished the letter, she set the collection of rolled papers aside, took off her pince-nez, cleaned them thoroughly with the waistband of her flared trousers, then read through the letter three more times.

“Fel?” Siv ventured, directing her gaze to where the Illuminate Star herself sat at a desk dealing with her own pile of correspondence. For once, the beauty of her older consort with her soft, generous curves and long, braided hair (mostly silver today, thanks to the approaching full moon, and coiled atop her head) failed to distract her at all.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to want to read this one personally.”

* * *

“I don’t like this.”

Anora regarded Lelwa with a flat expression. “So you’ve said, oh… a hundred thousand times or so in the last span. Unless you have something new to offer me in addition to your concern, I don’t quite see how that’s helpful.”

Lelwa grimaced, their lips pressed together so hard they began to turn white. They were of a height with Anora, tall and rakish where she was thickly padded with muscle. “You’re really going to do this.”

“Was there ever a doubt in your mind? This is likely our only opportunity at lasting peace with the Celestrium. Of course I’m going to do it.”

“It’s too risky. What’s to stop them from murdering you and dumping your body into the ocean? So much water. _Too_ much water. And we only just found our bearings with you as Flarequeen, and now—”

Whirling around to face them, Anora took several long strides then put her calloused hands on Lelwa’s narrow shoulders, gripping them tight. Though Lelwa wasn’t interested in sex or romance for themself, they gave Anora an equally special space in their life and heart as others might give a lover, and Anora knew their concern was as much rooted in her safety as for them assuming the role of acting Flaremarch.

A rumble like a miniature earthquake came from behind Anora, where Rayveth waited. _Go soft, little one_. Her mellifluous, immense voice filled Anora’s mind. _The compassion that will serve you in the lunar court must begin here._

Her drachen’s voice was a comfort as well as a timely reminder. “If no one takes a risk, we will be stuck perpetuating the same endless cycles of violence and prejudice as we have for half an epoch. Much as I have trusted you with both my life and Solastria countless times already, I trust you again with it now. And I have promised several times over to write as often as time allows.”

Lelwa relaxed beneath Anora’s grip, slender fingers curling around Anora’s wrist, olive against brown. “And I trust you too, Anora, I do. More than oaths and prayer. It’s the Celestrium I doubt.”

Wordlessly, Anora pulled Lelwa into an embrace. She hugged them tight, trying to convey the love and care she felt for them through the touch. Only the rhythmic sound of Rayveth’s breathing and the cries of birds overhead punctuated the silence. Once most of the tension had eased from Lelwa’s body, Anora pulled away, ruffling their hair affectionately and flipping it from one shaved side to the other.

“Do I need to give you an order to stop worrying, Flareward Lelwa’anoraj lee Shiveth, soon to be Acting Flaremarch Lelwa’lelwaraj lee Shiveth?”

With a roll of their amber eyes, Lelwa smiled. “You could, but it wouldn’t do much good.”

“Does it ever?”

“No. No, not really.”

Anora laughed right along with Lelwa, their mutual agitation settling to as close to normal as they could both manage in these extraordinary circumstances. Lelwa reached over and gave Anora’s bicep a lingering squeeze, heedless of the drachenscale shirt she wore, then nodded once.

“I’m terrible at goodbyes, as you know, so I will leave you to the last of your preparations before departure.” With all the earnestness they were capable of, they raised both hands to their lips and pressed a chaste kiss to their gathered fingertips, then cradled Anora’s face. Those same fingertips rested by long habit on the royal markings she bore around the crown of her head, bright gold beneath the shaved sides of her hair, a gesture of intimacy permitted to a chosen few. “Take good care, Flarequeen, and come back to us in one piece. This is one duty I won’t allow you to shirk permanently.”

A lump sprang up in Anora’s throat, the first burn of imminent tears building behind her eyes. “I’d expect nothing less.” Once Lelwa had withdrawn and their back was turned, a few tears slipped down her cheeks despite herself. “Remember, don’t let them cancel the second library construction while I’m gone! Radiant Milve has been conspiring to do just that for ages.”

Though Lelwa didn’t look back, they gave a soft chuckle and lifted their right hand over their shoulder, pointer and middle fingers raised in the gesture of agreement.

She watched until Lelwa’s worn russet leathers were a speck in the distance, then nothing at all once they descended into the valley that cradled Solastria and its population. Only once they had vanished did Anora turn to Rayveth.

As always, the sight of her drachen, the Highdrachen that had chosen her, calmed her. It hadn’t been an easy road for Anora and Rayveth; they’d both lost drachen and bonded partner in the Eclipse War respectively, a loss that could have as easily consumed them with despair as fostered connection.

Thankfully, it had worked out for the best. For many, it didn’t.

Rayveth, likely sensing Anora’s intention, lowered herself from her great haunches to all fours, pressing herself as close to the ground as she could get. As Anora walked towards her drachen and pressed her hands against her sun-warm scales, she took a deep, calming breath. Though all drachen were marvellous creatures, Anora wasn’t ashamed to admit her preference for Rayveth. Most Solarium drachen ranged in shades from white to gold to orange to red, but Rayveth had all of those and more, a shimmering sunset pattern that shifted hues in the light. Anora wore those same scales as armor, collected as they naturally fell off and were replaced; it was a lightweight construction immune to fire, harder than diamond, and capable of keeping the bearer warm on chill nights as long as it absorbed sunlight throughout the day.

_What will I do without you?_ Anora asked Rayveth through their bond, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the drachen’s flank.

_The same thing you did before you Knew me, dear one. You are already doing something most deemed impossible. What is one more impossible thing?_ A wave of warmth and pride came from Rayveth’s end of the bond, buoying Anora’s spirits.

Despite the effort from her drachen, more tears escaped Anora. She ran her hand lengthwise across Rayveth’s scales, lifting her hand and starting from the beginning when she’d gotten to the end of her reach. Words escaped not only her speech but her thoughts, her emotions a snarled mess.

_You’re afraid._ There was no accusation in Rayveth’s voice, bright like the midday sun, only understanding.

_I am terrified,_ Anora admitted, tears flowing more freely. _Queens are not allowed to be scared, only strong. At least not where anyone else can see them. Even Lelwa._

After a pause, Anora felt a powerful warmth and pressure at her back. From the sensation, Anora guessed Rayveth had taken her tail and ever so gently curled it around her, the closest thing the two could get to an embrace.

_On the contrary, little one, I would be more worried if you weren’t afraid. You are freefalling into the unknown with no guarantee of wings beneath to catch you. It is a right and true action. It aligns with your heart. That does not mean it is without fear._

Anora swallowed and nodded, nuzzling against Rayveth’s scales. She was twenty-seven turns old, a mere infant compared to Rayveth and even the late Flarequeen, who’d seen over four hundredturns thanks to slow aging Solarium blood. It didn’t mean she could not allow herself this moment of comfort, but it did mean she would have to work four times as hard to be seen as serious.

_Thank you, Ray,_ Anora said once her breath, pulse, and tears had calmed. The pressure of Rayveth’s tail disappeared and she stepped back from her drachen, standing tall.

Rayveth craned her long, massive neck to look directly at Anora. Would she ever stop being struck by her blazing, brilliant eyes, two suns in miniature with no discernable iris or pupil? Experience had taught her to discern when Rayveth’s attention was focused and when it was not, and she felt the full weight of her regard.

_You are braver and stronger than you know, dear heart. And I will never be too far to hear you, though we must be parted for the seasons. Are you ready to fly?_

“Yes. I’m ready.”

After Anora wound her riding scarf around her close-cropped hair and settled her goggles on her face, she grabbed the handles of the saddle designed to help her mount and pulled herself up in one steady motion, muscles straining against the fabric of her tunic as she did. As soon as she was settled and strapped in, Anora lifted her chin, opening herself fully to their bond and letting Rayveth share her emotions: trepidation, exhilaration, hope, fear, faith, love. When she felt them echoed back at her, she noticed the effort Rayveth made to amplify the positive feelings and added gratitude to the list.

_Let’s fly_ , Anora said.

Then there was the powerful launch, and the beating of wings, and they were airborne in the clear late-winter sky, shooting up in altitude with every passing moment.

Without asking, Rayveth took them on a final circle around the valley of Solastria. Anora would miss the redstone houses and lush, verdant sungardens of the Ever-Brilliant City, the Dawnplains with their ethereal glow for miles in the first light of morning, the southern Singing Sands and the drachen and humans who made their home there, all of it. She would miss it almost as much as she’d miss Lelwa, as her other friends and family. Once the final circuit farewell was done, she directed her gaze forward and firm, resolving not to look back.

Missing Solastria was a miniscule price to save it.


	2. II

**II**

> _I don’t need to impress upon you how important safety and security must be during the Flarequeen’s visit. (If I do, come see me for a refresher. Hint: It will involve chamber pots)._
> 
> _Double watch will be placed within the palace itself, and I expect no less than four veilwards in the Illuminate Star’s presence at all times. Two will be assigned on rotating duty to the Flarequeen as she moves about the city, in addition to the escorts she will be told about directly. Any suspicious activity is to be reported to me. If she sneezes too hard, I want to know._
> 
> _Siv, if you’re reading this—and I know you will—stop prying into my duties and focus on your own instead. You are no longer under my command._
> 
> _-Warded communique to all Celestrium drachenknights from Ker Fallwyrm, Striking Star_

* * *

Whatever expectations Siv Venwyrm had of Solastria’s Flarequeen, the woman who had been escorted to the throne room of the Stellarium defied them all.

Safely veiled from sight behind the throne along with her drachen, Grayix, she scrutinized the would-be “ambassador”. Tall, abnormally so compared to those of Celestrium, she carried herself with pride and dignity despite her clear exhaustion and travelworn clothing; only a shirt made of scales in various shades of red, orange, and yellow looked intact. Every step radiated power—some might say _menace_ , but Siv was feeling charitable-adjacent— accentuated by well-defined muscles from head to toe. Given Solastria’s brutal reputation, she’d expected the woman to be bristling with weapons, but then again, the guards were there for a reason. Perhaps they’d already been confiscated.

Once she was closer to the dais, Siv could make out bronze streaks in and beneath the Flarequeen’s brown hair, a colour close to the startling gold hue of her irises. A nagging voice in the back of her head, one that sounded exceedingly like Fel’s, reminded her she had no room to judge unusual appearances; after all, Siv’s own skin had taken on the dark hematite of Grayix’s and her eyes had become pure black pools to match his, with an extra helping of budding scales along the left side of her body.

She didn’t have to _like_ the too-human look of the Flarequeen, though. Even if she was supposed to keep an open mind.

 _You sense anything weird?_ Siv asked Grayix.

 _No glamours or illusions. Determination, and fear. To be expected. We will see the colour of her words when she speaks,_ Grayix replied, a gravelly whisper in her thoughts.

 _Fear? Why should she be scared? They’re the ones who nearly wiped us off the map. Typical, hypocritical Solastrian_.

A different voice sounded in Siv’s mind, all crystalline bells and fluting vowels, though to mistake it for anything less than authoritative would be a grave error. Luyix, Fel’s drachen.

_You are both here to listen and watch, not bicker in the twilight. I suggest you do so._

Grayix’s shame at the reprimand flooded their bond. Chastened, at least for the moment, Siv returned her attention to the imminent exchange. Well, to Fel and Luyix. She’d already had enough of the Flarequeen and it had been perhaps four minutes in total.

Fel had dressed official-like for the occasion, wearing a beautiful gown of silver silk accentuated with deep blue embroidery, the shape of it emphasizing her thick curves as opposed to hiding them. A gigantic, octagonal diamond pendant glittered where it rested on her décolletage. Hands tipped in razor-sharp pearl claws gripped the scepter of her office, the Illuminate Star for which the ruler of Celestrium was named emitting a soft, steady glow in its white-gold cage. Fel’s hair was half onyx, half pearl along with her skin, matching Luyix’s scales behind her as they changed with the faces of the moon. Delicate pearl horns curled back and up to perfectly frame her crown, created to match the glowing moonstone disc between Luyix’s giant, far more deadly horns.

Siv was a lucky, _lucky_ woman. And that was _before_ Fel started doing regal, confident shit, which Siv was almost certain she would be treated to as well.

Her bond with Grayix twinged, a ping of annoyance at her distraction, and Siv shot him one right back.

The Flarequeen who was both somehow too soft and too firm and too human—really, it was puzzling to look at—knelt at Fel’s feet an appropriate distance away, head bowed. “Most Illuminate Star and Honored Highdrachen Lufelyix, it is a privilege to be before you, and I offer my deepest gratitude for your generosity in allowing me to visit your home.”

 _These words are coloured true. You will see with me, Siv._ The bond shifted between Grayix and Siv, and after a brief blur in her vision, she could see the aura around the Flarequeen for herself. Pale gold—instinctively, she knew this to be the Flarequeen’s natural state—shot through with threads of purple fear and olive apprehension.

_You didn’t need to use your power on me, I trust you. Mostly._

A snort of suppressed laughter echoed in Siv’s mind. _How does our mate say? You are human-shaped suspicion and distrust. I will have no doubt, for us and for her._

Siv rolled her eyes. _We’re supposed to be paying attention. And now I will see too._

“You may rise, Flarequeen Anora’anoraj lee Rayveth. Long has it been since a suntouched has graced our halls, and though the circumstances are most unusual, we do not demand prostration or obsequiousness.” Fel inclined her head in a gesture of permission.

“Just Anora, please. I meant what I said in our letters about abandoning my title. I want no special treatment beyond what any visitor from the other drachenmarchs would receive.” The aura shifted to include a pale stain of pink—embarrassment—both otherwise remained the same.

 _Good. We can put her to work mucking the wyvernling stalls, if she’s so convinced she doesn’t want any special treatment,_ Siv said to Grayix.

There were few downsides to being bonded with two drachen, but Siv felt one of them now in Luyix’s wordless wave of disapproval. Though Luyix would never be so obvious as to turn her head towards Siv and Grayix’s traditional hiding place, always within reach of her queen and consort, the weight of Luyix’s displeasure was far more effective than a simple look. If you could consider a look from any Highdrachen simple.

“Anora, then. Allow us to welcome you to Celestrium and to New Lunaris. We offer no promises beyond providing for your essential needs during your two-season visitation, but we are pleased to have the opportunity for the many discussions left unsaid between our peoples.”

“As am I, Most Illuminate Star. I ask for nothing beyond what is freely given, and though I fear there may be difficulty and pain unearthed by those discussions, I believe it is necessary to heal from the deep wounds and scars carried by Celestrium and Solastria alike.”

Siv glared so hard it felt as though she might burn a hole through her twilight glamour. What wounds could her people possibly carry? The burden of guilt for slaughtering thousands and igniting a war with their _blessed_ sun strikes? Despite the strength of her glare, none of the rotten decay signifying a lie showed up in _Anora’s_ aura, no matter how much she willed it to be true. Surely such flowery, impotent language was a deception of some kind.

 _You see with me. She believes her words true_.

It took every scrap of Siv’s willpower to stifle her annoyed groan. Sometimes, being the Penumbral Star, charged with acting as the left hand of the Illuminate Star and keeping to the shadows, was the fucking _worst_. Unsatisfied, she kept staring at Anora, going so far as to stick out her tongue in a rude gesture towards the soft skinned woman.

Then Anora turned her head, expression carefully neutral, and stared right at Siv’s hiding place. Only the barely perceptible crinkle of her brow betrayed any confusion.

Siv’s heart skipped a beat then pounded twice as hard to make up for it. She was hidden, she _knew_ she was hidden, so why did it seem like the Flarequeen could see? Siv kept silent and still, accustomed to making herself invisible in every way that counted, blood roaring in her ears. Something was bothering her, something beyond annoyance that the Solastria queen had the audacity to be here in New Lunaris in the first place. It was the sensation of a word lingering at the tip of the tongue—the harder Siv chased it, the more distant it became.

Then Anora turned her attention back to Fel and the simple shift was enough to jog the memory loose.

Siv had seen this woman before.

Siv _knew_ Anora.

Siv knew Anora because Anora had almost killed her.

* * *

“Fel, you _can’t_ trust her, please. You know I’m not good at begging, but I will absolutely beg if it makes some sort of difference.” Siv paced circles on the plush woven carpet in their shared chambers, marking out each circle in eight exact steps. “She isn’t here for a marriage of convenience or peace or diplomacy or whatever bullshit excuse she’s given you. She’s up to something.”

What made Fel excel in her role as Illuminate Star of Celestrium along with a natural wisdom borne of age was her level head, listening ear, and sense of fairness. Unfortunately for Siv, Fel was also prone to sticking with her decisions once she’d used those qualities to make them.

“Are you going to tell me why I shouldn’t trust her, aside from the reasons you’ve already given me?” Fel unwound the decorative silver chains with teardrop pearls from her horns, careful of her claws. “Or is this a hunch?”

“It’s…” Siv came to a halt in the middle of the carpet, pushing her unbound hair back away from her face and sighing into her palm. “It’s hard to talk about.”

Once she’d set the last piece of jewelry down on the polished vanity, Fel turned to face Siv, putting the finishing touches on the knot tying her dressing gown together. She crossed the room on silent feet until she was standing in front of Siv, then reached out to cradle Siv’s cheek in her palm, the sharp tips of her claws brushing against her cheekbone and ear.

“Since when have I… have _we…_ strayed from difficult subjects?” Fel asked, bending to kiss the beating pulse beneath Sid’s throat. Grayix and Luyix echoed agreement through the bond, though no words were spoken.

With a sigh, Siv leaned into the touch, placing her hand atop of Fel’s. Once she was certain she could speak in a steady, even tone, she did.

“You were there when I was gravely wounded in one of the final battles of the Eclipse War three turns ago. You saw…” Siv trailed off.

Fel’s free hand dropped to Siv’s abdomen. The backs of her claws traced the puckered, fist shaped scar beneath her tunic, pale white against the gray of Siv’s skin with fissures streaking away from it like the site of a comet impact. “I was.”

Memories long pushed aside floated to the forefront of Siv’s mind. She had an excellent memory, and it was part of the reason she worked so well in her role, but some recollections were best left to gather dust. Rather than try to put them into words, she opened her mind to Fel, Grayix, and Luyix, letting them flow through her unimpeded.

_Blazing, burning sun. A slash of claw then tumbling from Grayix, falling, falling, saved by sudden death only by the Celestrium ability of the slow float, a feather spiraling to the ground with all the clumsiness of a child. Even still, gasping for breath, roars and screams and the stench of death around her. A tall woman, burnished scale armor, dark hair flowing in the hot wind, bruised and bloody with a golden sword in hand. Trying to crawl but finding agony instead of movement, broken bones, broken back, broken places where things shouldn’t be broken. The sword as golden as her eyes, staring down cruel and cold, edge flashing in sunlight. Then pain, pain as hot as the eyes were cold, agony upon agony, and then nothing at all._

In Siv’s memory, the woman was even younger, less muscled, with longer hair and full drachenknight armor. There was no mistaking the striking features, hawkish nose and blazing golden eyes.

It had been Anora.

Through the bond, Grayix keened, low and warbling and mournful, echoing the distress Siv herself felt.

Fel pulled her close, stroking her hair with slow, tender motions. “Shhhh, shhhh, it’s alright now. You’re here safe with me, with Grayix, with Luyix. There’s no one to hurt you. You are mine, _ours_ , and you are here.”

It took longer than Siv would have preferred for her breath to flow freely in and out of her lungs again, for the panic and trembling to subside. The Eclipse War wasn’t a place she enjoyed visiting often in her memories. No one did, she assumed, and especially not people like her, who had lingered on the brink of death and had an arduous, tense climb back to life again.

“You can’t trust her.” Siv pulled back and held Fel’s gaze, polished silver to her own jet black. “I know neither Grayix or I saw anything suspicious in her aura or sensed any deception but… I don’t know, maybe she’s found a way to fool us. Maybe this is all a plot to get close to you. I’m sure they haven’t forgiven us for the deaths of their old Flaremarch and Highdrachen, no matter what her letters said.”

“Siv, I see your pain, and I honor it,” Fel said, her voice a low melody, hands sliding to the small of Siv’s back. “All you have done, you have done for me, to keep me safe. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you, though the battles will be fought with words and wills instead of drachen and shifters and poison in the night. Trust me when I say I have strong, _strong_ reservations about an alliance with Solastria. Anora will need to do more than make a good first impression for me to agree to any sort of terms, and I certainly won’t make you interact with her more than absolutely necessary.”

“That’s good, because I don’t really want to interact with her at all. Or, you know, anyone who has impaled me and left me for dead. As a general rule.”

Fel flashed a quick smile, lengthened fang-like canines peeking beneath her upper lip. “Nor would I ask it of you. All jests aside… I do not expect you to forgive her, not now and not ever if you do not think she has earned it. But my love, we cannot afford to resume the war. Already we have lost untold drachenlines, our people spread thin as we grow and rebuild. If the cease-pact ends without some sort of resolution, I fear it will be the end of all lunar lines, human and drachen alike.”

“I know. Stars, do I _know_ ,” Siv repeated, blowing air between her lips. “I’m the last person who wants to go back to fighting. Did enough of that for one lifetime.”

 _With this I agree. I never wish to taste the blood of drachenkin in my maw again,_ Grayix said to all four.

 _We have wept an ocean for our losses. Let us not create another by starting with suspicion and distrust_. Luyix’s chime-like voice sounded hollow, sorrowful.

“Please be careful, at least? Extra careful. All it takes is a single strike…”

Fel placed two fingers against Siv’s lips, affection and patience radiating from her eyes and through the bond, limbal ring glowing a soft silver. “She is one woman, and we have many drachen and shifters. Besides, you are not the only one who can cloak yourself in twilight. There will be eyes on Anora—they just won’t be yours, sweet.”

Mollified for the moment, Siv let her hands drop from Fel’s waist to her thick thighs, standing on her tiptoes to steal a kiss from Fel. Pleasure echoed fourfold between drachens and humans as Fel returned the kiss, her fangs nipping sharp and insistent at Siv’s lower lip, her own hands working to divest Siv of her remaining clothing. For tonight, she would enjoy the warmth of Fel’s body, the tenderness of her love, the hope of peace. Fel was, however, mistaken about one thing.

Siv’s eyes would absolutely, unequivocally be on Anora. As often as they could.


	3. III

**III**

> _Anora,_
> 
> _I am pleased to hear you made it safely to Celestrium. Rayveth already misses you dearly, though she has been pretending otherwise. It is a sentiment we share._
> 
> _The council has been adjusting well to the temporary transfer of power and my role as Flaremarch. Even Elyiej has not made a sideways, snide comment in over two spans. I pray to both the dawn and the spirits my luck continues to hold on that front._
> 
> _Speaking of the council, it is a busy day full of convenings. I’m heading to the Shifting Sands along with Shiveth to ratify our trade agreements. I imagine their disregard for the Ever-Brilliant City will not be dissimilar to the circumstances you’re facing now. Except, of course, without the epoch of resentment as a foundation._
> 
> _No pressure, of course._
> 
> _Yours in exhaustion and trepidation,_
> 
> _Lelwa_

* * *

New Lunaris was a night sky come to life. A marvel.

Even at the tail end of the span granted to her to explore the city and get her bearings, Anora didn’t know if the sights would ever stop amazing her. She’d thought her quarters in the Lunar Palace—officially known as the Stellarium, she’d since learned, though ‘palace’ worked in casual speech—impressive enough. A polite but cool servant had given her a tour of her suites, an interconnected sitting room to receive visitors in addition to a private sleeping chamber, filled with elegant, minimalist décor in deep purples and blues and accented with silver.

And the bed…

Though she had temporarily renounced the title, Anora was still a queen used to a pleathora of comforts in Solastria, but the bed in the Stellarium put hers to utter shame. Her liaison had to explain how to get up _to_ the bed, high and recessed into a loft such as it was, and even she laughed at her first clumsy attempt using the inscribed liftcircle on the ground to reach it. It hadn’t taken long at all to get the habit of the smooth, controlled, magically assisted jump to ascend, and the form-hugging, delectable softness made the awkward learning period worth it. Apparently, most humans in Celestrium preferred their beds positioned high off the ground.

Which made sense, given that even the smallest of children here could float and extend their jumps, and most adolescents and adults could _fly_ outright.

She’d known those with Celestrium blood and bonds considered gravity by and large optional. How could she not, when airborne lunar drachenknights, armed with spears and bows, had been a deadly force to reckon with during the Eclipse War? What she hadn’t realized was how ubiquitous it was, how the entirety of New Lunaris was designed for those more comfortable with their feet off the ground than on it. Which, naturally, did not describe Anora in the slightest. Thankfully, the liftcircle she used to get to her bed provided much needed practice for its more complicated cousins spread throughout the city, situated in cases where height differentials between the various floating neighborhoods and isles made bridges impractical.

The bridges weren’t precisely practical even when they were functional. They highlighted a secondary challenge Anora hadn’t considered—one that made her grateful she enjoyed her bed so much: New Lunaris and its inhabitants were nocturnal.

At night when the city came alive, the bridges were crystalline but visible, gorgeous shimmering pathways like comet trails stretching between the floating isles of the city. Anora discovered the connection between moonlight and the visibility of the bridge when, on her first morning after prayers, she left the palace and was baffled by the way the path she’d used just the previous night had vanished altogether. Or so she thought.

It had been a Eaulian visitor (at least, Anora had thought they seemed Eaulian, with their translucent hair and folded, inactive gills) who had enlightened her.

“The bridges are still there,” they said in their burbling accent, pointing in the same direction as Anora’s gaze, “only invisible. You can walk across them with caution.”

“Thank you.” Anora tried to summon her queenly dignity, but she couldn’t stop heat from flaring like a sunspot beneath her cheeks.

If she stayed to watch the Eaulian make their own way across the bridge, appearing to Anora’s tired eyes to walk through thin air as they strode with confidence toward their destination, before starting her own attempt, she thought at least Lelwa would appreciate her prudence. One doesn’t enter into a drachenbond and have a fear of heights, as general rule, but Anora suspected her handlers—and she _did_ have them, had seen the same individuals tailing her or heard suspicious noise on the wind—amused themselves at her expense as she teetered across the bridge. She was no steadier than a drachenling moments after hatching, wobbling and wibbling and doing everything in her power not to look down at the sleeping city beneath her.

She made it across. Eventually.

By the time the Illuminate Star herself summoned Anora to a meeting—a personalized and private tour with an opportunity to begin their promised discussions—she was glad for the missteps. At least there would be fewer pitfalls for her to trip into.

* * *

“How are you finding New Lunaris?”

The Illuminate Star, though dressed in a rather plain black gown when juxtaposed with the formal regalia she touted at their first meeting, had an undeniable gravitas. The full weight of said gravitas loaded down each word in her question, and Anora knew she ought to be both careful and honest.

“Gorgeous, complex, and intimidating. In other words… not unlike yourself, Most Illuminate Star.”

For all her serious comportment, the Illuminate Star had a laugh like windchimes, and she seemed as startled as Anora to have given it. She glimpsed fang-like teeth before the lunar queen regained her composure. “It has been many, many turns since someone dared speak such open flattery to us. We approve.”

Anora lifted one shoulder in a shrug, clasping her hands behind her back to avoid shoving them in her trouser pockets—supple black leather provided by the palace. “A genuine compliment on all fronts, Brightness, not an attempt at flattery. Though if it makes you regard me more favorably, I will take any advantage I can get.”

“We’ve not yet decided how to regard you, Anora.” As the Celestrium woman walked the winding path of the palace gardens, her long scepter made a gentle tap in time with her steps. “We once knew Solastria well in the last epoch before relations crumbled beyond repair. You, however, and the Solastria you wish to ally with us, are a paradox. An open enigma with many layers to analyze and inspect.”

“Fortunately for both of us, I’ve often been called an open book, and not usually in a positive light.” She ignored the trickle of fear at the notion of being peeled apart, reminding herself that she had no factual basis for said fear. “May I assume from your words that you have been the Illuminate Star for quite some time?”

The other woman’s lips curled into a gentle smile. “We have seen forty-two turns past our hundredturn, though many days I feel double that. Luyix has seen double that in truth, the oldest of our Highdrachen. It puts us solidly in our middle ages for our respective species. What of you, Anora? How long have you been in the world, and how long might you expect to be in it, barring unnatural complications?”

Anora reeled, stunned by the knowledge though she tried not to show any outward signs. One hundred and forty-two turns? That was two hundredturns younger than the previous Flaremarch, but leagues more than Anora herself. Solastria’s curse of its royalty dying young wasn’t a trend Anora wanted to continue for herself. Not for the first time and not for the last, she felt woefully out of her depth compared to the wealth of wisdom and knowledge the Illuminate Star must carry with those turns. Still…

“I have seen twenty-seven turns. I am the youngest Flarequeen to take the throne of Solastria.” Anora also wasn’t the first choice of the council, or the second, or the third, but she was what they got. “My companion, Rayveth, whose name I bear, celebrated her hundredturn last summer. If…” _If we don’t find ourselves embroiled in war once more_ , _we could live three times as long as you,_ Anora thought during her pause. “To borrow your phrase, barring unnatural complications, both Rayveth and I could expect to live an epoch each. Sunblood grants us great longevity, in addition to other benefits such as strength, resistance to disease, and endurance.”

The lunar monarch lifted her eyebrow ridges, cartilidge like a drachen’s but covered in a dark slash of human hair. “An entire epoch? This is new knowledge to us. If we managed to find our way to an alliance of sorts, and we are not saying this is yet possible, we would have to make provisions for this disparity. We would not have our next Illuminate Star trapped in a bargain they did not make nor agree to.”

Anora nodded her agreement. This at least she had anticipated. “Naturally, Brightness. Any alliance and formal bond would be strictly between you and I, along with any political agreements therein. For those of the Solastria who bond with individuals in other drachenmarchs… well, it is not easy being the longest lived among them. Harder still when it comes with myriad political considerations for two nations.”

The Illuminate Star inclined her head, the sparkling gems threaded through her black updo catching the ambient light. Anora felt a surge of gratitude for the slim magical spectacles the palace had provided, allowing her to see with her natural range in the perpetual dark of New Lunaris.

“We are glad to know there is an accord in this matter.” Her Brightness looked Anora in the eye, the white glow of the limbal ring around her jet-black irises astonishing her anew. “We are curious, young queen. Does Solastria, like our own people, share memory with their drachen? Do you have this collaborative history to draw upon as you guide your queendom?”

The question sent Anora’s stomach plummeting to her feet. They did share memory with sunblooded drachen… usually. Her heart squeezed with sudden pain. It took a couple deep breaths before Anora could answer with the same calm diplomacy.

“Though I won’t assume it works exactly the same as it does in Celestrium, we do share memory. For our people, the oldest Highdrachen serves as an Anchor for all other beneath them. Before…” Here Anora faltered, her words slipping to silence. Even from leagues away, she felt the faintest pulse of reassurance from Rayveth; her distress must have been obvious for her drachen to reach out. Leave it to the Illuminate Star to address in their second audience one of the topics she was most apprehensive to broach. It was a sensitive subject even within Solastria, and one of the reasons they had been so slow to recover after the cease-pact.

In many cases, they had simply lost huge swathes of knowledge to the void after the Eclipse War. Even if it could be learned again, it required time and effort and research. And in the cases where they couldn’t, it was like probing the empty hole where a tooth used to be every time the memory was reached for: painful, empty, strange, unsettling.

“Before the chain was broken with the sudden deaths of Highdrachen Lishoth and their Flaremarch, we had managed to keep several epochs worth of memory shared between us and our drachenkin. Now…” Anora sighed, heavy with emotions she dared not delve into. She forced herself to look at the lunar queen as she spoke. “Rayveth and I have collected what we can from our surviving drachen and bonded, done as many ritual transfers as possible to forge her as a new Anchor. But we are… bereft. Emptied. Grieving the loss of several epochs worth of memory, history, and craft with every breath we take. Though I can wish with all my heart it had never come to pass, that our actions hadn’t led us down a path of revenge and retaliation, I am immeasurably proud of my people and their resilience.

In fact, the only benefit I can possibly salvage from the wreckage is that it has removed a great deal of unfair prejudice against the Celestrium. Memory, as I’m sure you know, is fallible in some regards. The living carry with them the experiential memory of the Eclipse War, but none of the long standing and unfounded beliefs about the Celestrium that the Anchor held. Despite the horrors between our people, it may be the only reason I was allowed here to attempt peace at all.”

Though she remained clear eyed and calm, overt sympathy played out on the Illuminate Star’s drachen-influenced features. “Though words alone are hollow, we offer our deepest condolences. We do not speak figuratively when we say we cannot imagine a loss of that magnitude. Your willingness to come to New Lunaris and live among our people, to foster an understanding of them, when your own has lost most of their cultural identity, says much and more about the kind of queen you wish to be.”

“Thank you, Most Illuminate Star,” Anora replied in a thickened voice. Even if there were anything else to say in that moment, she couldn’t have managed it without tears.

The lunar queen seemed to sense this. For a while, they traveled in silence. Anora admired the sheer variety of flora contained in the singular garden. Back home, she enjoyed gardening as many did in Solastria, and she did her best to mentally catalogue what she saw. Glowing bell-shaped lavender flowers hanging from sturdy trellises overhead, silver star shaped blossoms with petals twice the length of Anora’s forearm, waist length stalks of honey-scented pale pink lilies, and clusters of metallic blue puffs were some of her favourites. The Illuminate Star began to offer the names of such flowers, and the conversation turned toward easier topics as Anora offered her own horticultural knowledge in exchange.

Their destination became apparent the moment Anora laid eyes on it. At the end of a series of hedges dripping with pearl-like buds (the Illuminate Star had told Anora to eat one, and the bud burst into sparkling fizz when she placed it on her tongue), the path opened up into a wide, spacious, enclosed dome. Not truly enclosed—Anora could make out hints of night sky and brilliant stars beyond the light green ivy ceiling—but clearly intended to separate this area from the rest.

It stole the breath from her lungs.

A limestone path led the way to a gazebo in the center of the dome which, while beautifully constructed in the silver columns and white arches of New Lunaris, wasn’t intended to be the focus. Glowing flowers of midnight blue and pale gold crowded every bit of the ground not covered in limestone, tiny sparks of light drifting up from them before fading into obscurity. At the exact point where they faded, moths of all sizes in various shades of cream, ivory, and silver filled the air; some rested idly on the ivy-covered sides of the dome, wings flapping as gentle as an infant’s breath, while others made the domed top of the gazebo their home. Each one had gleaming twin moons on the backs of their wings, giving the impression yet again of a field full of stars. Anora’s feet stuck to where she had taken two steps onto the pathway, lips parted by staggering awe.

It was only when the Illuminate Star gestured with one pearl-clawed finger that Anora followed, gaze roving over the space and searing the sight into her memory. She followed the lunar queen into the gazebo.

“Sit,” she said, spreading her palm in invitation after she’d already done the same. No sooner than she’d rested her scepter in one corner of the hexagonal structure, a few moths flew towards her, beginning to alight on her shoulders and on the tines of her crown. If it bothered the Illuminate Star, she showed no signs of it.

Anora lowered herself to the bench on the opposite side of the gazebo, hands folded in her lap. “I have no adequate words. This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.”

“We are pleased you think so, for it was intended to be one of our most beloved sites.” Iridescent lips curved in a composed smile. “Since you have been magnanimous in sharing your story with us, we have a story for you in a similar vein.

Drachenkin of the Celestrium and their bonded also share memory. Though you may already know this, or at the very least have noticed it in your time in New Lunaris, we consider ourselves to have the closest relationship with drachen among all the drachenmarchs. As far as we’re aware, we are the only drachenmarch to have both human and drachen as co-rulers, and unless Solastria shares the same practice, we of lunarblood are the only humans who can choose to sustain multiple bonds with drachens. We are twice bonded ourselves, though it is exceedingly rare for the Illuminate Star to share themself with more than their Highdrachen.” At this, the dark-haired woman paused, tilting her head ever so slightly as though she was listening to a far away sound. After a moment, she continued, careful not to disturb the moths continuing to alight on her body.

“While all the drachenmarchs are fostered in the spirit of cooperation, we _entwine_ ourselves with our drachenkin, so much so that we begin to take on elements of their appearance.” At this, the Illuminate Star gestured to herself, the slightest flick of her fingers. “This entanglement plays into our shared memory. Rather than an Anchor as you described, we have a collective memory, a consciousness all of us can share and opt into. What one of us knows, all of us knows if we choose to share it. Do you follow us so far?”

Anora nodded. “Instead of one pair of drachen and human bearing your entire history, all of you choose to share it amongst yourselves.”

“Precisely. This redundancy has its advantages. For example, we have no concern of losing our shared history and memory. Had we known…” The Illuminate Star trailed off; her gaze unfocused as her attention went elsewhere. “Had we known such a thing were possible, we may not have taken the actions we did to end the Eclipse War. For us, if one life is cut short, we mourn, we share the pain, but we retain their essence in the tapestry of Celestrium. There are, however, disadvantages. As the moon has a light side, so too must it have a dark. There are certain events we cannot control in sharing, though few: births, deaths, mating. The cyclical natures of life.”

For the first time since Anora arrived, she noticed a hesitation in the Illuminate Star, a careful drawing in of breath before she continued. Dread crackled like static along Anora’s spine. She feared what the ruler’s next words would be almost as much as she felt she knew where they would lead.

“Imagine, if you will, a sudden catastrophic event. One that not only decimates a city but ends the life of thousands upon thousands within it. Imagine further that all of those inhabitants are _linked_ to some degree, though not nearly as much as most drachenkin understand bonding. Imagine some of those links are doubled, tripled, quadrupled within themselves. And now, imagine what a populace that feels every single death of its members might suffer in such a circumstance.” The Illuminate Star’s eyes were solemn, half lidded, as her voice faltered. “There are no words for such a horror. No words to encapsulate what having innumerable souls ripped away in a single moment does to a person, let alone to a drachenkin with multiple bonds who feels that same horror amplified fivefold. Those who we didn’t lose outright in the destruction of Old Lunaris we lost later to either suicide or the total departure of their sanity. To this day, we care for those who no longer have the ability to care for themselves.”

Anora’s throat closed in on itself. She’d promised herself she would not betray her youth, her inexperience, her sensitive heart with tears, but she felt them burning behind her eyes all the same. It was hard enough for a bonded human to lose their drachen—sometimes more than they could bear. Even if it wasn’t to the same degree, the magnitude of such deaths, all at the same time…

“Look around you. Each one of these nightblossoms, each one of these moths, represents someone we lost along with Old Lunaris. A soul stolen from us too soon. We are sitting in what serves as both grave and memorial, one sacred to our people. We brought you here despite advice to the contrary because we believe you are capable of understanding. Capable of respecting what we’ve lost. Especially since you freely shared the story of your own pain.

So you see, Anora, both our peoples carry a cataclysm of grief within them. The question remains: Is there a path for us to heal the wounds between us, and if so, are we strong enough to take it?”

A few tears carved hot rivulets down Anora’s cheeks. “I… I can’t answer the first without your help, but as for the second, I will do everything in my power. This I swear.”

When she looked down at her lap in an attempt to regain her composure, she found a buttery white moth resting ever so lightly on her hands, its moonglow wings opening and closing in slow, soft arcs. After swallowing past the rock in her throat, Anora lifted her head and found the Illuminate Star smiling at her, though the curve of her lips was a dirge, not a melody.

“It seems our judgement was correct. The lunarblood consider it a great honor for a moth to grace you with its presence while visiting this site or others. A sign of favour from the spirits beyond.” The Celestrium woman was practically covered in them herself, though she showed no signs of it bothering her.

“I will strive to be worthy of that honor, Most Illuminate Star,” Anora replied, dabbing at her cheeks with the back of her sleeve as her breathing steadied.

The Illuminate Star stood slow and tall, sending a pleathora of moths flying in all directions in a flurry of wings and miniature moons. When she had risen to her feet—still a hand’s length shorter than Anora—she extended a pearl-clawed hand with fingers splayed toward her.

“You may call us… call _me_ Fel. If we are to breach the gap between us, I think we must do so as not only Illuminate Star and Flarequeen, but as Fel and Anora. As the imperfect humans behind the titles. Do you agree?”

Anora clasped the offered hand in hers, grip warmer and firmer than she’d anticipated, and pulled herself to her feet.

“I do.”

* * *

_You can stay! Lu gets to stay, why shouldn’t you?_

Grayix turned one bottomless eye toward Siv’s diminutive form. With his wings slicked flat to his back and his deep grey, sinuous body pressed to the floor, he looked more like an eaudrachen than a lunarblooded one. _Has your mind changed on the necessity of my presence? You told me you were no crechechild to cling to her drachenling only this morning._

 _I would like you to know you’re as bad as Fel when it comes to throwing my words back at me,_ Siv replied through the bond, palm on her cocked hip. She rolled her eyes and craned her neck back to peer out of the palace moonroof, where a massive opening big enough for drachen to fly in and out of—permitted drachen, anyway—was situated. _You could hang out at the porthole._

_We are already defying our mates by spending our days following the little sunblood queen. I do not like this secrecy._

Siv threw her hands up in the air. _It’s for her protection! I don’t trust Anora as far as I could throw her, and as much as I hate to admit it, I couldn’t throw her far, even if she is soft and squishy and smooth skinned. She might have Fel fooled for now, but it’s my job not to be fooled._

Grayix emitted a drawling rumble, one that raised in volume and intensity as it continued and reverberated across Siv’s skin. _It is also your job to obey. Have you forgotten?_

_Hey, I’m already coming to this stupid dinner and being introduced. That’s obeying! If I do a little extra reconnaissance because the veilwards wouldn’t know a threat if it hit them over the head, that’s working overtime._

A snort of hot, sour air blasted Siv as Grayix indicated his disapproval, sending her long hair flying behind her. _A half truth, Siv. I do not deal in half truths._

 _Fine, I still don’t trust Anora and I_ want _to follow her, is that what you want to hear?_

If it were possible for a drachen to look smug—and judging by Grayix’s lifted eyebrow ridges and heavy snort, it was—her drachen had it down to an exact science. _This thing is close enough. If you decide you need me, I will not be far._

Without further word, Grayix launched himself in the air like a hematite slipstream, narrow wings lifting him more quickly than their shape would suggest possible. Before Siv could blink three times, he had vanished beyond the drachen-shaped exit of the throne room, leaving Siv to her own devices. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait overlong before a different drachen flew through the skylight cutting, this time the familiar four-winged, massive, onyx and pearl shape of Luyix. The buffeting wind caused by her landing was at welcome as the rider that slid off her naked back.

“Sorry I’m late, dear heart,” Fel said, hands already working to fix her disarrayed hair. “Without you there to remind me, I always lose track of time when visiting the drachenlings.”

“That’s okay,” Siv said, grinning as she accepted a chaste kiss from Fel. “It gave Grayix time to insult me, which as we all know is his favourite pastime. At least you beat your guest of honor.”

As though she’d conjured the woman with her sarcasm, there was a knock at the massive throne room doors, followed by a herald who announced “Flarequeen Anora’anoraj lee Rayveth”—so much for that whole ‘no title’ thing.

“Damnation,” Fel swore under her breath. Then, loud enough for the herald to hear, “Have her wait a moment, please.”

 _You need not rush. She will wait. She has no choice_ , Luyix said.

Siv glanced over her shoulder at the enormous Highdrachen. At least _someone_ in their motley crew of four had sense left in their head. Luyix for her part looked unperturbed, peering down her pearl snout at Fel, who was finishing the final adjustments of her outfit, including crossing to the throne and setting the formal crown of the Celestrium on her head.

“We have always treated our guests with the respect they deserve, and we will not start doing otherwise because Anora is from Solastria.”

“I mean…” Siv ventured, raising the pitch of her voice to double down on the uncertain tone. “None of our other guests are war criminals, though?”

Fel leveled an impressive glare at Siv, one backed by the force of Luyix and Grayix’s disapproval through their shared bonds. “My heart, I gave you ample opportunity to back out. I will not force you to be here. If you _choose_ to be here, however, I would appreciate an attempt at cordiality.”

“Because _that’s_ worked out in the past,” Siv muttered.

* * *

Things went to shit in what was, in Siv’s reckoning, record time.

“You haven’t yet been introduced to my consort and bondmate, Penumbral Star Siv Venwyrm,” Fel said, turning and giving Siv a ‘play-nice-or-don’t-play-at-all’ smile she was all too familiar with.

Anora stood there with her comically large, intensely golden eyes wide as she looked between Siv and Fel. They’d at least given her some sensible black Celestrium trousers and boots, which was a tiny blessing this evening, but she insisted on wearing the drachenscale shirt she’d showed up in on the first day. The innocent and pure of heart act might have worked on Fel, but she’d have to try harder to convince Siv.

At the most subtle of throat clears from Fel, Siv bared her teeth in a feral grimace that the ignorant sunblood would probably read as a smile. “Pleasure.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Penumbral Star. I had come to understand the Illu… that Fel had a bonded consort, and I am grateful we could finally be introduced.” Anora pulled out her own chair and took her seat, broad shoulders and swollen muscles making her look disproportionate to the Celestrium-sized furniture. If it discomfited her, she showed no signs of it.

“Likewise, Flarequeen. Though I did instruct the palace staff to make sure they gave you a dull knife, what with your propensity for stabbing and the like.”

Fel’s glare turned ice cold, a matching feeling flowing into her chest through the bond. “You will have to forgive Siv. Her sense of humor can take some getting used to.”

“Humor?” Siv narrowed her eyes, gesturing with the fork she had been previously pushing salad greens around with. “I don’t really think it’s humor if I’m sitting across the table from an attempted murderer. I have the scars to prove it.”

Anora went utterly still across the table. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

 _Siv_. Fel’s tone was laden with warning and command in her head.

Screw that. And screw this. If the little queen couldn’t handle what she’d done to one person, what use would she be in trying to sort out two entire drachenmarchs? Siv bolted up from the table, metal chair scraping discordantly across the floor as she did, and lifted her ruffled and embroidered dress tunic to put her scars on display.

“Bringing up any memories? A Celestrium woman you cut down and impaled with a sword? Because I certainly remember,” Siv said, low and menacing.

Anora’s face went blank, which only made Siv’s irritation simmer higher. Her grip tightened on the spoon on her hand until her brown knuckles had blanched white. Siv could see the gears turning and relished the exact moment she saw the recognition—and horror—dawn on Anora’s face.

“I…” Her tongue darted across her full pink lips, those gold eyes wide with some intense emotion. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. Now that I’ve seen you, I do recognize you. Words are empty vessels compared to actions, but you have to know I have regretted the choice I made on the battlefield every day since I made it. After that, I swore off the sword and committed myself to the healer’s tent only, never taking the field again.”

“Good for you,” Siv sneered. “I’m glad you found your morals after you nearly killed me. And now you have the audacity to come to _our_ home and _our_ land and claim you have no ill intent when I’m living proof of what you’re capable of? Forgive me if I’m not convinced, _Anora_.”

 _Y_ _ou go too far!_ Fel hissed in her thoughts. She tried to speak aloud, reaching a placating hand toward Anora, but Anora jerkily stood from the table, eyes and nose and lips scrunched tight in pain.

“I… forgive me, Illuminate and Penumbral Stars. I must take my leave.” Without another word, she turned and bolted for the double doors, not looking back.

Fel was on her feet and right behind her, but not before directing the full force of her displeasure at Siv. “That was entirely unbecoming, both as Penumbral Star _and_ as Siv. You and I will speak later.” With that, she followed the path Anora had set, sweeping past the guards with all of her offended, imperious bearing on display.

Alone save for Luyix’s supernova of disapproval behind her, Siv slumped back in her seat at the now empty table, clanging her fork against the edge of the plate.

 _That was not honorable,_ Grayix rumbled in her mind, gravel on silk.

_Yeah, well, I’m not the one who stormed off like a child when confronted with the consequences of her actions. I’m still at the table._

_You know the weight Fel must endure. Adding to her burden is not what a bondmate does_ , Luyix said, chime-like voice edged with embers.

Why did Siv suddenly feel like _she_ was the asshole here?


	4. IV

**IV**

> _Lelwa,_
> 
> _It’s hard to believe the first of my two allotted seasons has passed already, though I suppose if I look at my remaining beamglyph papers, I can see the passage more clearly. Do remember to pack more with Rayveth when she comes to visit soon. The lengthening days revitalize me, bringing much needed cheer to my flagging spirits._
> 
> _You asked how I fare here in New Lunaris, and I wish I had a clearer answer for you. Some days—or rather, some nights, I feel as though I am coaxing the spark of hope into a flame our two nations can share. If nothing else, Fel seems to be warming to me as a fellow leader, if not necessarily as marriage prospect. Almost every day brings some new discussion of terms, treatises, trade agreements, cultural considerations (even an exchange program, could you imagine, Lelwa, to have sun and moon meeting once again), so much so that my head spins with information and possibilities long after I’ve laid myself to rest. I have had the privilege of seeing some of their sacred spaces and even meeting their Highdrachen, of which they have far fewer remaining than we do. The Eclipse War has taken a heavy toll on both Solastria and Celestrium in vastly different ways. Still, Fel and I have reached an understanding that we’re both to put past wrongs aside and focus on how we can adequately make recompense._
> 
> _I knew it would not be an easy question to answer when I agreed to this undertaking. I find it more difficult than I ever imagined. The theory comes easily enough. The practicality, however…_
> 
> _When I leave the Stellarium, the citizens of New Lunaris often avoid me, or worse, make gestures I’ve come to understand as wards against evil. Unlike us, they have retained their long memory, and I cannot blame them for their distrust. For every forward stride I make in a positive direction, I feel I take two more backwards. Just yesterday, I celebrated being able to purchase a meal from a vendor without awkwardness or hostility. Unfortunately, I was barred from entering a different establishment, a sort of purveyor of the theatrical arts, in the same evening. Small victories, bigger losses._
> 
> _For as much as the Celestrium doesn’t seem to enjoy my presence, I greatly enjoy theirs. Did you know they bond with multiple drachen, either when human partners themselves bond or simply because a connection was formed? It has slipped my mind to mention in my previous letters. I envy them, though that may be due to loneliness and homesickness more than genuine feeling. Only time will tell._
> 
> _My biggest obstacle comes not from a stranger but from the Illuminate Star’s bondmate, Siv Venwyrm. At times it feels fate conspires against me. Siv is none other than the first and only Celestrium woman I wounded on the battlefield, the one that led to my breakdown and subsequent banishment from combat. My feelings on the matter haven’t changed; I am proud to not only be a healer, but one of the best among us, though prowess in battle has long been lauded as superior in Solastria. What I do regret is that I seem to have offended Siv irrevocably despite several attempts at an apology. After what I can only describe as a tense first introduction—do remind me of the time I was called a murderer at supper when I next complain about council functions—the waters have calmed somewhat between us. I suspect Fel had something to do with this change, though I’d never dare ask._
> 
> _Her attention is… unnerving, and not just because of her arresting appearance; of all the lunarblooded I’ve seen, she has taken on the most aspects of her drachen, including a change in her eyes and skin and even growing scales. Make no mistake, she follows etiquette and politeness to the letter during the times we are forced to interact. She has even started referring to me as Anora_ without _copious amounts of sarcasm. But there is an undercurrent I have yet to decipher. Perhaps it is nothing more than her being pushed to the edge of tolerance; after all, I_ did _wound her gravely. It’s not something one generally ‘gets over’, or so I’ve gathered. Perhaps she is angry I proposed to her bondmate, despite multiple partners being acceptable here and the fact it would be no more than a political arrangement._
> 
> _Perhaps she simply doesn’t like me. It would not be the first time or the last. (Please stop laughing—I know you are, and while I can tolerate your teasing about my need to be liked, this is rather more serious in nature)._
> 
> _Alas, Siv will be my puzzle to solve. In the meantime, thank you again for sending what you can of the council records. I have been reviewing them in what little spare time I have, and I am glad to see the political machinations churn ever on even without my supervision. Would you like to keep the post of Flaremarch after all? I have a feeling if I fail here, Solastria would not accept me back anyway._
> 
> _But enough morose talk for one evening. I will keep my chin up and hopes high. As always, I take my duty seriously, and this duty above all merits the best effort I can offer._
> 
> _Yours in love and faith,_
> 
> _Anora_
> 
> _P.S. I have enclosed a small packet of seeds with Fel’s permission. They should be within the size transferable if wrapped in beamglyph. I have been told they will grow almost anywhere, and I think you will find them quite lovely._

* * *

It had taken four moons for Siv to come to an entirely unwelcome, no good, awfully bad realization:

Anora wasn’t faking it. Her proper, courteous, considerate demeanor, while soft and irritating overall, was genuine.

 _We decided this on the first day of the little sunblood’s arrival._ Wherever Grayix was lurking, he was attuned to her thoughts, and it was irritating as Anora's general existence.

You _and Lu and Fel decided that._ I _was doing my job and making sure she wasn’t a spy sent to infiltrate us. It seems like everyone else forgets the times where the Solastrians would do exactly that._

Grayix’s incredulity was a streak of lightning across the night sky. _We did not forget. We simply chose to move on. To believe that sunblood and lunarblood are capable of better. This you know in your heart too, Siv._

From her perch on a random balcony as she watched Anora do Anora-like things on the residential isle below, such as speaking to strangers and giving sweets to crechechildren and being a tall and muscular and warm red-gold beacon in a sea of moonsilver, Siv hugged her knees to her chest. She had nearly reached her hundredturn, for stars sake, with no thanks to Anora. Surely, she could admit when she’d been wrong?

 _If it is possible for you, I have not yet seen this truth_.

_Wooooooow Grayix, just… wow. You really had to jump in quick with that one, huh? How long have you been sitting on it?_

A dry chuckle in her mind sent a shiver of frisson across Siv’s skin. _There is no need to save words when you are certain they will be applicable. You simply wait. This I have learned from you._

* * *

It came down to a broken liftcircle.

Siv, from her hiding place behind an elegant topiary (and hadn’t Grayix been full of opinions about that choice), had seen it happen in slow motion. A laughing boy, grey skinned and silver haired, all teeth and smiles, ran toward the liftcircle at the edge of the isle. Like everyone in New Lunaris, he trusted the magic without a second thought. Why wouldn’t he? By the time his foot was dangling in midair, he’d realized there would be no gravity to slow his fall, no gentle tunnel of pressure to guide his descent.

He fell, and fell, and fell.

Siv hoped never to hear the noise he made as he tumbled through the air—the piercing shriek of terror—nor the noise he made when he landed—a thick crack, then silence—ever again. She should do something, but what could she do? With her hand clamped tight over her mouth to muffle her own panicked, horrified breathing, she froze.

Anora did not freeze.

“Move, move aside, clear the way!” she shouted in her strong, high voice, dropping the woven shopping tote she carried and spilling lavender starfruit across the polished limestone path. Mezzo-soprano, if she sang. A stupid thought for a stupid, pointless situation. The crowd parted around her as it always did because they still feared her, except this time it worked in Anora’s favor. Shouts, weeping, cries for help filled the air, but all Siv could see was the focus on Anora’s face.

“Don’t touch him!” she yelled at a lanky person who approached and reached down. “Any movement could cause untold damage.” Her profile, hawklike nose and sharp jawline, was all Siv could see as she knelt. People blocked her view of the wounded boy himself, for which Siv was ashamed to admit she was grateful. “I need light. Fire, torches, moonglobes, starsticks. All the light you can spare.”

When no one made to move, Anora visibly took a deep breath. “Now!” she cried, authority ringing in the single syllable, and for the first time Siv could imagine this woman as a queen.

People scurried into homes and storefronts for the items Anora demanded without a second thought. For those drachenkin who could conjure moonlight, hands and arms and bodies began to glow, faintly at first and then with increasing intensity. Urgency laced tension through the air, spurred on by Anora’s commands to hurry, to go faster. Like a constellation, the bystanders in the town square reappeared and gathered, an ocean of light in their hands. It was bright enough that Siv had to squint to focus on Anora.

“This won’t harm you in any way, but in order to save this child, I need to take your light.” With her declaration made, Anora wasted no time.

All at once, the light the crowed had summoned or brought began to flow _into_ Anora. By this point, there had to be over thirty people around her, each with a stream of ivory or silver or blue or purple light flowing into her. Were Siv’s heart not pounding in terror, it would be beating with awe. Anora seemed to hold the light within herself, growing brighter and brighter as the sources around her faded. Though it felt like it had taken an epoch, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes until she radiated.

A sun in miniature against the velvet twilight of New Lunaris. Or maybe, more accurately, a moon. Or both.

Siv clamped her teeth together as Anora reached down to the obscured boy. In a continuing series of tiny miracles, the light made one final shift: from Anora’s body to his.

She wanted so badly to see for herself what was going on, what sort of magic Anora was working. Her muscles had been replaced with lead, hand still clamped over her mouth, breathing ragged. There was no way Siv was moving, not with her body betraying her, though the bright glow of a child-sized, prone figure demanded her attention.

The crowd confirmed it for her.

After the light had faded altogether, gone as if it had never been, there was a gasp and a wavering, child-like cry of, “Momma?!” The woman in question pushed past the tight ring of lunarkin, sobbing as she knelt.

“Please, he’s going to need rest, and I’d like to examine him…”

Whatever Anora was said was lost as the crowd surrounded _her_ instead, and it was only then Siv realized she was crying, a silent stream of tears down her cheeks and over her hand.

_Siv? Are you well? Do you have need of me?_

_I’m fine, Gray. I’m… I’m a gigantic fool, I think, but I’m fine._

_It pleases me to hear you admit such truth._

With a relief like the calm of a passing thunderstorm, Siv began to laugh.

* * *

Over a span, Siv made sure to spread the word of Anora’s heroic rescue. Not that the tale needed much help in circulating. In a tight knit city like New Lunaris, rumor spread like wildfire, and the tale of the Flarequeen channeling the energy of the moon (and Siv, for a change, wouldn’t be pedantic in saying it was more likely the sun, since moonlight was its reflection) was no exception. It hadn’t stopped her from making the rounds, dropping helpful ‘suggestions’ about how well the Illuminate Star and the Flarequeen were getting on, insinuating it might be time to get used to other Solastrians visiting their city. Information management was, after all, in her wheelhouse.

So were thinly veiled threats and blackmail, but you know. Those she’d used only in the most stubborn of cases.

The last item on her mental list was also the hardest:

Talking to Anora herself.

 _Apologizing to Anora_ , Grayix corrected.

_Could you stay out of my head for a single night? It’s hard enough keeping Fel and Lu out all the time. Don’t make me do it to you._

_We are One. To shut me out is to break the bond._ After a pause, Grayix added, _Besides, without me, you would lose what meager good sense you have._

_Is it a good time to remind you that you’re lucky I love you? Because it feels like a good time to remind you that you’re lucky I love you. Damnation, Gray. Can’t a drachenkin catch a break?_

_This I do not know. Is it the ideal time to remind you I disagree with veiling in twilight to go and speak with the little sunblood? She prefers direct words. Direct action. This Fel has told you more than once._

Siv rubbed at her eyes with her fists, hissing. Stars, how did a whole nation function with all this light and heat? It was an hour past sunrise and Siv felt the enervating force of it already, leeching away her strength like a low fever.

Was this how Anora had felt every night for the past four moons and change?

_Now you begin to see honorably, past your grudge. This is right action. Empathy._

At his warm praise, Siv twisted to look at Grayix, perfectly still on his hind legs where he’d dropped her off at the edge of the city. She hated the flicker of pride she felt at his words. _I’m trying. I really am._

With a rolling rumble, Grayix lowered the sleek point of his head, and Siv reached up instinctively for it, resting her forehead against his snout. _This has the colour of truth. The time for subterfuge and shadow has passed, though we must stay ready in case the queens have need of us. You must use your warrior heart for other battles now. I believe you will learn the way._

 _Let’s hope so,_ Siv replied, patting the side of Grayix’s snout affectionately. _Wish me luck._

It wasn’t difficult to follow Anora’s tracks out of the city. After all, what lunarblooded person would be caught dead not only outside the city, but in the bright light of early morning? Anora had no reason to suspect anyone would be searching for her. Aside from Siv herself, anyway—and she’d established her status as part-time fool. More difficult than following in the woman’s footsteps was the walk itself. Siv began to understand with sweaty, sudden clarity the benefits of Anora’s physical conditioning. All those well-defined muscles were apparently not just for show.

Not that Siv had, er, been using them for show.

With her enhanced hearing, Siv picked up the sound of Anora well before the sight of her. She _also_ heard the unmistakable bellowing breaths and slow rumble of a drachen.

Truly, Siv had intended to do as Grayix suggested. She wanted to speak with Anora face to face, without the comfort of the twilight veil she’d so often used over the past season. But at the first sight of the gargantuan Highdrachen next to Anora’s more familiar form, Siv’s instincts took over. Solastrian drachen, in her long experience, were threats, and threats were to be hidden from until they could be appropriately dealt with. And once she’d drawn what veil she could around herself—imperfect thanks to the daylight, but sufficient to obscure all but the most careful onlookers—Siv didn’t want to let it go.

Old habits die hard.

She crept closer and closer, being sure to stay downwind lest the Highdrachen catch her scent. Once Siv had drawn close enough to make out minute details… like the red-gold markings wrapped around the crown of Anora’s head that she’d never noticed before… she sank into perfect stillness through long training. Temporarily, of course. Once Anora’s drachen had left, she’d drop the veil and talk to her, but she didn’t want to interrupt her once moonly visit with Rayveth.

She also wasn’t in a particular rush to face down a Solarian Highdrachen at all, ever, but you know. One challenge at a time.

Siv was humble enough to admit Rayveth’s grandiose presence. She’d assumed she’d recognize the Highdrachen in the same way she’d first recognized Anora, but if she’d seen her before, it was lost to her memory. The intensity of the reds, oranges, yellows, and pale golds that made up the gradient of Rayveth’s scales hurt to look at, so used to the black and blue and silvers of the Celestrium was Siv. It wasn’t a _bad_ hurt though. More like an adjustment. Her eyes, which had been closed as she emitted a low, draconic purr, finally opened, and it took all Siv’s practice cultivating silence not to gasp. She’d seen solarblooded drachen before in the war, but never one with two blazing suns as eyes, brilliant, yellow, and captivating.

“Ray.” Anora sounded tired. Exhausted, really.

If the actions of her drachen could be interpreted with the same standards Siv knew, they confirmed the exhaustion. Anora clutched the foreleg Rayveth offered her like it was a life raft tossed to her at sea. Before long, she was wrapped in the tight curl of her drachen’s embrace, surrounded on all sides by shifting sunset scales.

The nascent suspicion Siv was intruding on a far more intimate meeting than she’d realized began to grow. They were clearly communicating through their bond, which was fine. For once Siv didn’t intend to eavesdrop. The longer she waited, the more awkward she felt. The scene oozed the sort of atmosphere Siv was familiar with, but in the context of her, Fel, Grayix and Luyix taking over the throne room or sprawled out on the beach, a warm pile of love and contentment.

Suddenly, the tied parcel of moonpearl pastries she’d brought as a peace offering—Fel had mentioned Anora’s delight with the fizzy berries in the palatial gardens—seemed pointless and inadequate. It would take more than sweets to bridge the gap between mortal enemies to friends.

Let alone between mortal enemies and… well, anything more than friends.

She’d truly intended to take her leave. Siv knew when she wasn’t wanted, and she’d meant it when she’d told Fel and Grayix she was trying to turn over a new, far less suspicious leaf, to not impede the negotiations of an alliance between Celestrium and Solastria any more than she already had. Despite not exactly fitting the mould of royal consort, Siv had picked up more than her fair share of politicking from her time with Fel; intruding on a private moment between bonded drachenkin and thereby fucking it up was not ideal in any of the drachenmarchs.

But then Anora started to cry.

Not just a few tears, either. Deep, heart wrenching sobs, her normally proud face buried in her drachen’s scales as Rayveth’s comforting rumble grew in intensity. It was so out of character from the Anora Siv had been following for more than a season, always with her head held high and bearing regal, that she stood transfixed. She shouldn’t be here, this was wrong, but it was like the falling boy all over again. A disaster she couldn’t look away from.

“I can’t do this,” Anora gasped aloud between sobs, breath heaving only for her to cry harder into Rayveth’s scales. “They hate me, and they hate us, a-and nothing… nothing I can do will change it. I’m s-s-so tired of trying.” The last word came out in a pained wail, and then silence reigned again.

A mild jolt of offense made Siv grip her parcel tight. Had they as a drachenmarch not been accommodating from the start? The feeling soon streaked away like a shooting star. Left in its wake was… damnation, it was heartache.

Did she truly not see how the people of New Lunaris had warmed to her? Perhaps there were different standards of affection in Solastria than in Celestrium. But letting her work among them as a healer with their most vulnerable (and Siv hadn’t even had to cajole _that_ placement out of the drachenkin who she worked with), inviting her to their tables to share food and intimacy, sending letters full of gratitude and curiosity to the palace… what additional signs could she need? Even Fel and Luyix had taken a shine to the young queen, and if everything kept proceeding as it had been and some final details could be hammered out, an alliance seemed well within reach. (Siv pointedly didn’t think of how that might look, didn’t want to dredge up the hot, sour feeling of jealousy roiling in her stomach to figure out its cause).

Despite her confusion, one thing had been made abundantly clear. Siv should not be here. She should go, should talk to Anora another time.

As she crept away with all her turns of training, heart hammering in her throat, she forgot the first rule of both her personal and professional life: look twice, leap once. Of all the things under the sky they shared, a thick clump of dried weeds proved her undoing.

At the first crackle, both Anora and Rayveth looked straight in her direction, one pair of gold eyes rimmed with red and the other two suns aflame.

“Who’s there?” Anora demanded in a hoarse voice. “Blazes, I thought this was the one time I was supposed to have without spies and handlers.” She had surged to her feet, Rayveth looming on her haunches behind Anora like a holy avenger. “At least have the courtesy of showing yourself!”

Blood roared in Siv’s ears, the only sound she could hear other than a static, white noise. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She could run, could stay hidden. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d escaped a dire predicament.

But she was tired of running.

“It’s me, Anora,” she said as she let go of her veil, trying as hard as she could to keep her limbs and voice from shaking. “I know what this looks like, but I promise—”

“ _You_.” Anora packed enough animosity in the word she spat to send a spike of fear through her. Her glare radiated the promise of retribution. “Why, why, _why_ is it always _you_?” She started to walk toward Siv, her booted feet stomping hard against the grassy ground.

As if the sight of Anora tearing a path to Siv weren’t bad enough, Rayveth stretched out her neck and roared in Siv’s direction, a bugling, terrifying sound that dredged up old, primal fear within Siv.

Several worried queries flowed through the bond, from Fel and Gray and Lu, battering against the white noise and fear. Siv managed to collect herself enough to send back _I’m fine, it’s okay_ , though she knew her terror would be palpable anyway.

“I just wanted to talk to you alone, and this was the only time I knew t-to find you by yourself,” Siv said, cursing herself for the stammer in her voice.

How had she ever thought the solarblooded didn’t resemble their drachen, at least in part? Both Anora and Rayveth had drawn to their full, queenly heights, their gazes locked on Siv like she was no smaller than a moonmouse—and just as fragile.

“It is my only time alone because it’s _forced_ to be my only time alone. For four moons I’ve had to sneak away like a thief in the night to see _my own drachen_ because it might _terrify_ the populace of your city, even though we were more than willing to take distant accommodations to allay your fears. It’s my only time alone because _you_ and _your drachenknights_ follow me around like a common criminal, lurking in shadows to make sure I’m not corrupting babies or poisoning drinking pools or whatever else you think of me.” Anora, who’d stopped an arm’s length away from Siv though it looked like it pained her to do so, raised her voice even higher, bellowing with sorrow and fury. “It’s my only time alone because if I am _anything_ less than perfect within your walls, _you_ and your queen and your city will find some way to discredit me and start up a war _no one can afford!_ So forgive me, O Penumbral Star, for snatching a handful of hours away from your ever watchful gaze.” Anora gave a mocking half bow, burning golden eyes still locked on Siv.

Siv knew the race between anger and sadness too well for comfort, and unfortunately for her, the magma of her anger was drenched in shame and heartbreak. “Anora, that’s what I’m trying to say, why I came. I—”

“Get. Out. Of. My. _Sight!_ ”

On the last roared word, Rayveth let out an accompanying scream of fury, though neither of them made any moves to draw closer. Still, it was enough to send Siv scrambling, dropping her white parcel of pastries and running in the opposite direction. Gray and Lu would be too far, and she wanted to be away from here, to get away as far and as fast as she could. As her sandaled feet slapped against the ground, Siv made her second short-sighted decision of the day. Though it would leave her bedridden for days since there was no moon to bolster the transformation, though it would reveal the last secret of Celestrium to Anora and Rayveth’s furious gaze…

Siv shifted.

In the space of ten racing heartbeats, she had shifted to her drachenform, hematite grey and male with a meteoric web of pale scars on her underbelly.

And then she took flight, barreling toward the tallest spire of the Stellarium, where safety and comfort awaited.


	5. V

**V**

> _Anora,_
> 
> _I know you’re not fond of advice or solutions in times of hardship, so allow me to provide what comfort I can. The situation you described with the Illuminate Star’s consort, Rayveth, and yourself sounds incredibly difficult. I can’t imagine an intrusion like that on Shiveth and I. Telling you not to worry overmuch about the loss of your temper also seems… I won’t say pointless, but ineffective. It may, however, be helpful to focus on the success you have enjoyed so far. According to the letter before last, it seems a permanent peace is on the horizon, and know that my love and encouragement comes with that of most of Solastria as well._
> 
> _Instead of more politics (you are the most important political happening by far these days), I write to you with a story. More accurately, a part of a story we recovered from one of the scroll libraries as we work to replace our Anchor. I suspect we carried this myth in our memory before the Forgetting._
> 
> _Once, in a former epoch, there was a Highdrachen known as Vishoth, Favoured of the Sun. They had the biggest wings, the brightest scales, the best drachenrider, and boundless flarebreath. They could fly higher and closer to the sun than any other drachen, no matter how hard the rest of them tried. Vishoth was never cruel or callous about these blessings. In fact, they were quick to help other drachenlings and drachen improve their abilities as best they could. Most were appreciative of the Sun-Favoured’s assistance._
> 
> _As you well know, ‘most’ does not mean ‘all’. There was one drachen in particular who took great offense to the Sun-Favoured. Her name was Anjveth._
> 
> _Anjveth, who had often been questioned and probed about her dull brass scales, her preference for the darkened side of sunset, and her curiosity about affairs of drachen beyond Solastria, resented the Sun-Favoured in all their perfection. No one had cared when she’d flown wide and far, bringing back new discoveries and tidings from other drachenmarchs, nor did they care when she welcomed Solastrians to her underground garden, full of delicious and edible fungi. Why go far when you can go high, they asked? Why go under when you can be above?_
> 
> _Drachen and humans share more than we care to admit at times, and this was no exception. Anjveth, angered by the constant comparisons to the Sun-Favoured, to the ideal of their behavior that left no room for her own pursuits, decided that the most effective way to deal with this was to harass Vishoth themself. These harassments started small: swapping fresh prey for cold carcasses when their drachenrider brought them, leaving scat and other mess in their den, stealing gold baubles and adornments gifted to them by their adoring drachenkin. Much to her dismay, Vishoth showed no reaction to any of these minor torments, which only infuriated her further. So, she escalated._
> 
> _(This pattern, you may already be guessing, has not typically worked out well for Solastria of now or old)._
> 
> _Even when their den was caved in altogether, even when they spent a span ill from feverweed hidden in their meals, Vishoth did not retaliate, though the Sun-Favoured began to search for the drachen who tormented them. Only when Anjveth burned a human dwelling with her own flarebreath, injuring several humans dear to Vishoth in the process and revealing herself as the agitator, did Vishoth react._
> 
> _The scroll came with illustrations, and were I any hand at drawing, I would try to replicate it here. The fight between them lasted three days and three nights, brightest gold and burnished bronze crashing and roaring above Solastria all the while. Unfortunately for Anjveth, Vishoth was Sun-Favoured for a reason, and eventually they had her pinned belly up on the Dawnplains, maw of sharp teeth around her throat._
> 
> Why _, they asked her in mindspeech_ , have you done all of these awful things, Anjveth, when no one has wronged you?
> 
> But they have wronged me! _Anjveth protested._ And so have you. You hold yourself as Sun-Favoured, better than all, and it makes the other drachenkin look upon me with pity at best, disgust at worst.
> 
> I have never encouraged ill treatment of you or any other, _Vishoth protested, forelegs trapping a struggling Anjveth on the ground._ All I have done is try to share my blessings with Solastria.
> 
> _There was a moment where time was pulled and stretched beyond its bounds. Finally, Anjveth replied_ , But you have never tried to share them with me.
> 
> _Suddenly, the Sun-Favoured understood why Anjveth had behaved the way she did, though they still did not condone her actions entirely._ You have avoided me like I bear plaguelice, Anjveth. How am I to know you if I have barely seen your shape before these three days and nights of fighting? _They removed their teeth from her throat._
> 
> _Anjveth, once she had gotten to all fours, blinked her scintillating brass eyes, as though a new understanding had come to her._ I am sorry, Sun-Favoured, for what I have done. I only wanted to bask in the regard of your light.
> 
> _Our scholars believe this was meant to be some sort of moral tale in our mythos. The story goes on to detail how the Sun-Favoured and Anjveth started anew and became kin. It claims Anjveth was the Highdrachen who founded the Shifting Sands and that eventually, the two would mate when the season came upon them, their drachenlings a burnished gold._
> 
> _When I thought on the situation you have described with Siv Venwyrm, this tale came to mind. I see more than a few resemblances._
> 
> _Do you?_
> 
> _Yours in compassion and duty,_
> 
> _Lelwa_

* * *

“I have more than a few questions.”

Fel, Anora admitted with no small amount of begrudging sentiment, was radiant tonight. With the full moon a single night away, both her and the Highdrachen Luyix were a gorgeous pearl hue; for Fel, her glossy braided hair had an almost iridescent shimmer, her skin glowing in the same bright shade. Her clawed hands were steady as she poured tea made from wakeleaf in Anora’s cup first, then her own.

“As you should. I swear on the Illuminate Star, both relic and office, that Siv would be here to apologize personally were she not indisposed.” The chains of jewelry dangling between Fel’s horns jingled as she inclined her head. “Indisposed in every sense of the word, not avoiding you from embarrassment. Though perhaps that may also play a part.”

Anora clenched her jaw to the point her teeth ground together. One loss of her temper had been enough, and she could ill afford to upset the one woman who held the fate of two nations in her hands at this juncture. “I don’t have the ability to tell if you’re lying or not. Unlike the lunarkin. But given our history over nearly the past five moons, I am putting both faith and trust in your words.”

“Thank you. It is appreciated more than you know.” Fel lifted the cup to her lips and took a long, careful sip; there was a clink against the delicate clay Anora assumed was her fangs. “Ask your questions and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Did you order Siv to follow me at any point during my visit?”

“I ordered her _not_ to follow you, in point of fact. At first, she defied my orders, though I’d hoped between her drachen and her conscience it would cease sooner than it did. She did stop, eventually, and only the escorts we assigned for your safety as much as ours accompanied you after.” Fel shook her head and scoffed. “I too owe you an apology for not stepping in sooner. Regardless of the fact that I believe Siv when she said she only meant to make amends for her past behavior in person during the incident in question, the one involving Highdrachen Rayveth, the season she followed you for shouldn’t have happened at all. You will remain unaccompanied for the remainder of your stay unless you wish otherwise.”

The admission took the wind right out from under Anora’s wings. She’d come to Fel’s private balcony, one facing the floating city of New Lunaris in all its brilliance, with the intention of staying angry. Instead, it fizzled into a low simmer, mollified by the accountability Fel took. The worst part was she believed, once the worst of her shame and anger had passed, that Siv had come to make some sort of amends. Or at least to try. The ruined pastries proved as much. You didn’t bring sweets to people you were intending to spy on, Anora supposed.

“I accept your apology. If it’s all the same to you, I would prefer not to have any _escorts_ ”—here, an infusion of lingering heat flared in her tone—“for the remainder of my visit.”

“Done.” When last Anora had spoken with Fel, her eyes and skin had been onyx to match the half moon. Now, they were opalescent, their glowing limbal rings a beacon in the dark. “If I may be so bold as to presume, you must have questions about Siv’s transformation.”

“To say the least.” The flat words were just this side of polite, but Anora couldn’t bring herself to care. “I know I don’t have many turns to back this claim up, but in all of my turns, I have never heard of any of the drachenkin being able to assume the shape of drachen themselves.”

“That’s because they can’t,” Fel replied simply, her full cheeks becoming twin moons as she smiled ruefully. “We have long studied in an attempt to figure out why our connection allows this gift, and the closest we have come is assigning it to the transformative nature of the moon. Not all drachenkin achieve this, though a large portion can do so at the full moon. Stronger drachenkin with longer bonds can manage it at any phase of the moon. The best and strongest among us can shift at will, though when done beyond night hours it is… taxing and inadvisable.”

“Ah.” Anora lifted her own cup to her lips—after five moons, wakeleaf was the only reason she didn’t feel like her bones were solid gold during the sunless hours New Lunaris kept. “Hence, Siv being indisposed.”

“Just so,” Fel agreed. “It’s as much and more as Siv deserves if I may share a moment of frank honesty. If you have ever overindulged in whatever spirits Solastria has to offer and have suffered for it the next morning, imagine the sensation a hundredfold over. Though I am glad she didn’t cause herself lasting harm—because shifting _can_ result in lasting harm if done beyond the touch of the moon and stars—it will perhaps serve as a reminder of her limits.”

“I’m having a hard time feeling sympathetic.”

“Understandably.”

Anora tapped her closely trimmed fingernails against the rim of her cup before taking another prolonged drink, letting the tart citrus and earthy bottom notes coat her tongue. The moon formed a picturesque backdrop on the balcony, its silver face so much closer here on this side of the world. If only she were in a better mood to appreciate it more.

“So when we thought you all had more drachen than we did during the war…” Anora began, eyes still gazing across the distance.

“We did. On a technicality, at any rate.” The Illuminate Star breathed out a controlled sigh and let her eyes drift closed, as though she were listening to a song Anora could neither hear nor sing. “Those who could shift at will did so. After all, Celestrium and its kin aren’t precisely combat oriented. We can fly even if we cannot shift, and we can hide, and we can discern emotions and truths, and we can conjure moonlight. None of those are useful in an offensive sense—it made far more of an impact to have our drachenkin fight with wing and tooth and claw where they could. Some few of us, such as Grayix and Siv, are naturally venomous, though only a handful of our moonshadows remain.” Fel opened her eyes and held Anora’s gaze. “If you have other questions about our capabilities, I will answer.”

“Only if you think we’ll be resuming the war when the cease-pact ends next moon.” Anora drained her cup then laced her hands together on the table in front of her, flexing and unflexing her thighs as a fidget beneath the table.

“You have been more patient than any of us could have asked for or anticipated. I promise you will have your answer soon.”

“That’s not a ‘yes’.”

“Neither is it a ‘no’,” Fel countered. She gave several slow, considering blinks, then reached up to fiddle with an octagonal pendant resting above the ample swell of her breasts. “I have told you more than most outsiders ever come to know, so I suppose this last thing makes little difference in the grand design of the stars.”

“What thing?”

“Tomorrow evening, to celebrate the end of lengthened days at the solstice and the return of night’s domain, we’ll be holding our most sacred festival. I’m certain you’ve noticed the increase in activity around the city.”

“I’d wondered about it, yes.”

Fel’s eyebrow ridges furrowed low as she turned toward Anora. “No one without lunarblood has ever been permitted to attend the Nightrise before. I would like, as a gesture of goodwill and of my commitment to the potential of peace, invite you to attend. You are under no obligation, and I will warn you: as the name suggests, the greater part of this will be conducted in the air. But still, I would have you there if you wish it.”

“And I’m guessing Rayveth is still barred from New Lunaris?”

“I am already defying the other Highdrachen and their kin by allowing this much. No eyes unbelonging to the Celestrium have seen this in our shared memory, let alone a sunblooded queen. Do not press me further on this point, please.”

Anora sighed. Though in better spirits since the breakdown Siv had unfortunately witnessed, she was wearier than she cared to admit. Homesick.

She had to keep going. To press on. To secure peace.

“Alright. I’ll be there.”

* * *

Anora had many regrets in her short life. How could she not, as a child born and bred into war, as a healer who had ushered those she could not save to the beyond with her own hands, as the too-young queen who tried to cobble her broken people back together.

Attending the Nightrise was not one of those regrets.

From one day to the next, the city had been transformed. Garlands of flowers and lights covered almost every building Anora could see, the colours of which varied from home to home; shades of white, blue, silver, and purple predominated the décor, but Anora smiled to see vibrant red strewn across the home of the boy she’d saved what felt like half a lifetime ago. Glyphs Anora couldn’t decipher were painted on the sides of dwellings and the streets alike, some more artistically rendered than others; she assumed they were drawn in temporary ink. Music filtered down the narrow path Anora currently traversed on her return to the largest central isle for the festivities, powerful drum and flute combinations she’d gotten used to during her nearly two seasons in New Lunaris.

She’d woken early and spent what daylight hours she had in prayer, singing the particular dawnchant she’d use to bid farewell to the summer solstice back home. Though she missed Rayveth each and every day, she missed her most of all as she’d sang, the lack of her drachen’s unique voice raising to harmonize with her own a sore lack. It was odd to now be immersed in such a joyful atmosphere when this holiday was a solemn affair back home.

Then again, it wasn’t the strangest thing she’d experienced while in Celestrium. Not by a long shot.

What was one more instance of culture shock?

Anora smiled at the vendor who sold her a steaming bun filled with a savory mix of vegetables and herbs, handing over a few extra of the half-moon coins that served as currency in New Lunaris to show her appreciation. By this point, she’d reached the bulk of the crowd, and she let the natural flow of it carry her to the epicenter of the celebrations.

Grateful Fel hadn’t made her take an active role in the holiday, Anora found a convenient wall to lean against, one of the homes closest to the Stellarium. She still got a handful of suspicious glances, but for the most part she was left to her own devices. It had been tempting to dress in a Celestrium fashion to better blend in. Then she’d decided if they were going to have her witness this sacred holiday, they would have her as Flarequeen Anora of the Solastria or not at all.

Besides, her height made it near impossible to blend anyway.

Thoughts swirled in her mind as Anora took in her surroundings. The sight of so many drachen gathered, treading air with slow beats of their wings in the skies above, gave her heart a lightness it hadn’t felt in some time. It wasn’t unlike celebrations back in Solastria when drachen and human gathered together in harmony, spread out over the bowl of the Ever-Brilliant City. The shapes and colours differed from the drachen she was used to seeing fanned the Dawnplains, resplendent in an array of metallic sunblood hues. Still… it was enough to be familiar. To be comforting.

To feel a little like home—to feel a little like it could _be_ home, at least part of the time. That’s what the early drafts of the potential bonding and peace agreement hinted at.

If the agreement went through.

Anora sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the spirits for her preternaturally sharp vision. Even from the distance she maintained, she could make out the raised dais in front of the palace. Fel shone in shades of white and opal, her elongated scepter and its mysterious gem at the tip of it.

How strange was it that Anora was used to seeing Fel in such finery? That the sight of her resplendent and commanding no longer provoked the same nervousness and apprehension it had on her first day here? Like she’d written to Lelwa, small victories.

Siv, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely.

For once, she wore a shimmering thigh-length tunic of grey, a series of golden chains and bangles creeping up both slender arms. A fine chain draped in swooping arcs along her chest and back, almost like a harness Anora would wear to ride Rayveth back home, except decorative in nature instead of practical. Her hair, long and sleek and endless as the abyss, was still pulled back in its usual high tail, but some kind of diadem rested on her forehead. A symbol of her status as Penumbral Star, judging from the obsidian points and black pearls inlaid in its settings. She stood straight and proud next to Fel, and Anora could admit she was captivating.

If Anora was the sun, and Fel was the moon, then Siv could only be the velvet black between the stars.

Behind the pair rested their drachen, the only ones not already in the air. Luyix had her four wings extended, the upper ones longer than the lower, the leathery webbing between them a paler shade of pearl than the surrounding skin. The moonstone between her horns shone as bright as Anora had ever seen it, bathing the area surrounding the dais in pure silver light. By comparison, Grayix looked abnormally small, though she’d seen firsthand several times how much power and speed his sleek form contained.

There was no way Siv could see her from this distance. Anora was sure. Her certainty crumbled when Siv directed her gaze right towards where Anora stood. Even with her enhanced vision, Anora couldn’t detect the nature of Siv’s expression, only the pools of ink peering her way.

Tentatively, Anora lifted a palm, pointer finger raised in what would serve as a polite greeting back home in their hand speech. She didn’t think she imagined the brief twitch in Siv’s expression, a tug upward at a corner of her mouth before she resumed looking out over the crowd.

Fel took a single step forward. The motion hushed the assembled lunarkin.

“Honored drachen, bonded kin, and lunarbound citizens of Celestrium, we extend our most illuminate welcome to this turn’s Nightrise!” she cried, voice carrying further than Anora had thought possible.

A cacophony of cries rose in response to Fel’s greeting, human shouts and drachen roars alike. Noticing a few people who weren’t already airborne clapping their hands together—mostly children of an age too small to fly and some of the elderly—Anora copied the motion. The air had taken a turn toward chill, which made her glad of her garment made from Rayveth’s scales, the warmth it generated soaking into her clothes and skin like water would a bath.

“As all of you know, tonight we celebrate the return of the lengthening nights, the watchful, holy gaze of the moon upon us more and more as summer takes its leave. We will not keep you from communion with your kin longer than we must, but this turn, we would like to add one more cause for celebration. Many of you have gotten to know Flarequeen Anora’anoraj lee Rayveth as she has made New Lunaris her home for these past two seasons. It is with pleasure, gratitude, and no small amount of hope that we welcome her in being the first sunblood to view our sacred flight in over an epoch. May you share in one of the multitude of reasons we cherish the Celestrium lands and New Lunaris as home, and may it foster greater understanding between our peoples.”

Though not as pronounced as it had been for Fel’s welcome, Anora smiled at the positive reception, another chorus of bellows and cheers punctuating her words.

“That being said, the night is young, the sky is free, and it cries out for our celebration for the rise of night. May the spirits accept our offering as we claim what is once and always ours!”

The words must have held a ceremonial or ritual quality, because no sooner than Fel had finished speaking, hundreds of bodies launched themselves into the sky. People shifted into various drachen around her, too many shapes and sizes to name, and flew up, up, up, towards the kin already awaiting them in the diamond studded sky. It was difficult to focus on any single individual given the explosion of wings and bodies.

“Ria, wait for me!” a diminutive blonde cried as she streaked past Anora’s post, pale cheeks pink as she laughed.

“Where’s the fun in that, Mor?” a dark-haired woman called back over her shoulder, barely slowing, grinning wide.

Anora stifled a gasp as the dark-haired woman plunged off the edge of the isle, followed shortly by the blonde. She peered around the corner of the wall she leaned against, squinting into the black. When two drachen shot up from beneath the isle where the women had jumped—one with white scales edged in palest blue, the other black with flashes of metallic aquamarine, their bodies weaving together as they spiraled upward—Anora smiled.

Truly, there was nothing like Nightrise in all of Solastria.

Through the flurry of activity, Anora returned her gaze to the dais where the Illuminate and Penumbral Stars still waited.

Fel made the change more elegant than Siv had, from what Anora could remember of the fateful morning. Her features elongated in pleasing ways, thick thighs becoming powerful haunches and curved belly turning into a lightly scaled underbelly. It felt like Anora had blinked too long and missed most of it: a second drachen stood beside Luyix, one pair of her gossamer wings positioned behind a functional pair capable of flight. Moonstones studded Fel’s spine in drachenform from the nape of her neck to the end of her tail, and her horns had grown toward each other in massive spirals that barely kissed at the ends. Like all of her kin, she too rocketed up to the waiting sky, following in Luyix’s wake. So focused had Anora been on Fel that she missed Siv’s transformation; both her and Grayix had vanished into the teeming crowd of drachen above.

Bittersweet warmth flooded Anora’s chest when, likely by more magic she didn’t understand, all the strings of light and flowers she’d noted on her way began to rise up across the interconnected islands, twilight bridges shimmering like gossamer threads between them. Within the space of three breaths they’d blotted out the stars because they hung so thick in the air. Anora’s hand went to her mouth, fingers pressed to her lips and eyes wide. If it looked this way from the ground, how would it look from above? A massive net of twinkling orbs and coloured petals spreading out.

An offering to the stars and night.

Even though she’d been warned, a pang of sadness twisted in her heart. It had been five moons and she’d never felt the drawback of being rooted to the ground as much as she did in this moment. Already she could make out drachen twirling in playful dance, patterns similar to mating ritual without the same intensity, as they cascaded east toward the looming moon.

Except…

As Anora craned her neck up to see as much of the cavorting crowd as she could before it vanished from her sight, one figure headed in her direction. Came closer. She squinted, trying to make out which drachen was returning.

When she recognized the drachen, her heart skipped several painful beats. Sleek, hornless head and metallic grey scales. Tapered wings. Web of scar tissue on the belly. Inky pools of black for eyes.

Siv.

A rush of air buffeted Anora as Siv landed none too gently, though the sinuous motions were laden with grace. It felt like Anora had swallowed an earthquake, so great was the pounding behind her ribs. Siv’s chest, the same rich grey as her skin in human form, rose and fell with great bellowing breaths, as though she’d come at speed. Which, as Anora clocked the approximate distance, made sense.

“Hello, Siv,” Anora ventured, cursing the tiny tremor beneath her voice. Had she done something wrong? Was she expected to return to the palace now that the Celestrium had taken flight?

Siv tilted her head and affixed one palm sized eye on her. Spirits, she was larger than Anora had realized now that she wasn’t running in the opposite direction. Fel’s words about her being venomous came to mind, and for one illogical instant, Anora imagined being bitten and left for dead in some complicated revenge plot. Then Siv sank down on all fours as low as she could go in a gesture Anora couldn’t mistake for anything else:

An invitation to ride.

“I…” Anora stammered, eyes darting between Siv in drachenform and the stunning sky. “Are you offering to take me? You… you don’t have a saddle or harness, and that’s what we use to ride in Solastria. I’m not sure how to ride otherwise.”

Then in a second surprise, Anora heard Siv’s voice as clear as starshine in her head. _Do you trust me?_

The shock of it nearly made Anora jump out of her skin. She’d heard no one in her thoughts aside from Rayveth and her former drachen in her entire life, and the sensation was… startling, but not unwelcome. She had no idea how to respond in kind. Words spoken aloud would have to do.

“Spirits, I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t.” An indrawn breath. A sudden truth given life. “But I do.”

Siv grinned with her maw full of sharp, forearm length teeth, an unsettling expression on a drachen but one that clearly communicated her meaning.

_Then get on. I won’t let you fall, Anora. I promise._

It was reckless. Lelwa would have several conniptions if they knew another drachenkin had spoken inside Anora’s mind, let alone what she was about to do. But Fel’s words from the garden moons ago, those about being brave enough to take the path of reconciliation, surfaced in Anora’s mind. Without further debate, Anora leapt up to the narrowest part of Siv’s back, the scales silky smooth and unfamiliar beneath her palms. If her grip on Siv’s neck as she pulled herself to a sitting position hurt, she gave no sign of it.

_This will feel… weird. It won’t hurt you._

Before Anora could ask what Siv meant by her words, she felt a pressure from the waist down, as though invisible ropes were securing her to Siv’s back. It gave her complete freedom of movement for her arms and head, but when she tried to unstick her legs, they wouldn’t budge no matter how much force she applied. An odd sensation, but even as Siv shifted, Anora’s body moved with it, accommodating the motions. There was no explicit taboo against riding another’s drachen, and no rules at all for riding a drachenkin who could assume the form of a drachen.

Anora felt the power gathered beneath her legs before Siv launched herself skyward, wings expanding in a single, forceful motion. Buildings sped past them in a coloured blur. Anora let out a surprised, delighted laugh, arms wrapped around Siv’s neck by force of habit, though whatever magic Siv used to hold her in place was secure. Past the highest point of the Stellarium, past the uneven rows that made up the isle of merchants, past the isles belonging to the drachen and housing their dens they went. They burst through the bulk of the entwined lights and flowers released when Fel and Luyix took flight, scattering them to the ambient winds, which drew another laugh from Anora.

And then…

Anora gasped aloud, the noise buried beneath the rhythmic beating of Siv’s wings.

 _This_ is what New Lunaris was meant to look like. How it was meant to be seen.

Already they had climbed above the clustered, floating isles, the points beneath like melted rock coalesced into a single point. Despite freeing the offerings of light the lunarkin had decorated the city with, each isle still glowed, like fragments of a shattered star turned into cities in miniature. The spire of the palace towered above all like a beacon. Anora could imagine no lunar drachen ever got lost no matter where they were in Celestrium, because that spire would be there to guide them home. Everywhere Anora looked rested another marvel. As long as she’d live, however long that might be, a handful of turns or her full epoch… she doubted she’d ever be able to replicate the brilliant, bursting joy suffusing her now. She’d never seen so many drachen in one place! Siv flew a wide circle around the bulk of them, but it didn’t stop Anora from leaning over Siv’s flank, fascinating by a ‘dancing’ pair of drachen below her, their silver and pale blue scales shimmering in the even more pronounced light of the moon.

Siv craned her own neck hard to the side, and with Anora’s arms clasped around it, she had no choice but to hang on for the ride, the force of Siv’s muscle swinging her with it.

 _The ocean_.

Anora had never seen so much water in one place, and certainly never like this. Little more than a blue line on the horizon when seen from New Lunaris, the rich sapphire waters spread out farther than Anora’s mind could process. It was as though gemstones had been melted into one continuous pool, accented with white foam Anora assumed were waves. Add in the massive circle of the moon climbing its way into the sky and the myriad drachen twirling and flipping and chasing one another, a panoply of huge backlit shadows, and it was…

Anora had no words.

_If you’re going to see Nightrise, you should see it as a Celestrium would._

“Show me it all,” Anora breathed, dizzy with elation.

Siv did.

She lost count of the hours they spent in the skies, distant music from a source Anora couldn’t find, the wind whipping against her face and hair, the scent of salt and brine filling her lungs with each breath. Anora screamed with delight as Siv corkscrewed through the air, a move that would have dislodged her were it not for the mysterious force holding her tight to Siv’s drachenform. When she did it a second time, Anora deliberately let go of Siv’s neck, shrieking like a giddy child as her arms dangled below her. It was so much _different_ than riding Rayveth, strange and wonderful, surrounded by a people who had survived as much and more as her own.

Some drachen Siv ‘danced’ with—for Anora, plastered to her back in order not to get in the way of the complicated movements, could only think of it as dancing—were new to her. Others, like Fel and the intimate, whirling, growling, roaring movements her pearlescent form made, movements Siv mirrored, were achingly familiar. They joined ever growing groups of drachen, bugles of joy and celebration (and some shouts for humans who could fly but not shift) ringing out beneath the velvet expanse of the stars.

Up here, up close, they were breathtaking. Life changing.

By the time they made it back to the palace, the last of the drachen to leave, Anora was wired and exhausted by turns. Never did she think she’d be clinging to Siv’s back as she took them through the warded opening of the Stellarium, yet here they were. Once Siv had pressed her long body to the floor, she finally released whatever power had kept Anora secure for the night. Her legs wobbled as she slid off Siv’s shoulders.

Within a few steps, Siv was at her side in human form, offering an arm to steady her.

“You going to make it back to your chambers, little sunblood?” she asked, onyx eyes holding an unknown galaxy of emotion in the dark.

Anora, who had lost the capability of coherent speech three miracles ago, simply threw her arms around Siv’s lithe frame, drawing her into a tight embrace.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”


	6. VI

**VI**

> _Lelwa,_
> 
> _I hate when you’re right._
> 
> _Yours in haste and hope,_
> 
> _Anora_

* * *

“It should be forbidden to resume life as normal the dusk after Nightrise,” Siv proclaimed, gliding her palm from Fel’s round, soft belly to the curves of her breasts, opalescent skin coated in a light sheen of sweat. “We’re already thinking of making wild changes to the Celestrium. Can’t you sneak in one more?”

 _Pleasure makes you lazy_ , Grayix rumbled.

 _Yeah, and_ lack _of pleasure makes you fun at fetes. We all have our vices._

Fel gave a quiet laugh in time with Grayix’s amused snort in her mind. The laugh feathered into ragged edges as Siv’s hand climbed ever upward, thumb tracing the sensitive inner ridges of one horn. “Encouraging abuse of power, Siv? How unlike you,” she purred.

“I thought that was part of the whole Penumbral Star thing. Your faithful shadow and bodyguard in public, your constant undermining and questioning companion—and occasional assassin—in private.” For balance, Siv caressed Fel’s other horn, gratified by the liquid murmur of pleasure Fel made low in her throat.

“Mmm. You forget I created that title in addition to bestowing it to you. Perhaps it’s time we consider more formal adjustments to the role.” Fel trailed her claws down Siv’s left side; the amount of pressure she applied would have torn unprotected skin, but it was perfect against Siv’s partial scaling, sending an electric frisson of pleasure along her spine. “How do you feel about diplomacy?”

“As an institution or as my new personal vocation? In either case, eh.”

This caused Fel to prop herself up on one luscious arm, cradling her face in her palm as she studied Siv. “You certainly embraced an ambassadorial role last night.”

“Oh, _that_ ,” Siv said, grateful her grey cheeks wouldn’t show the sudden flare of heat in them. “I… well, you know, it was a better peace offering than a bag of pastries. And Anora just looked so _sad_ standing there alone, staring moon eyed and flat footed at everyone else having fun.”

“Ah. I see.” Fel smiled, though it had a predatory and self-satisfied edge. “So it was a completely altruistic gesture that had nothing at all to do with your feelings for Anora? If so, you’re better suited to a change in role than I thought.”

Siv shot up from the bed, cloudlike sheets sliding to her waist, and goggled at Fel. “Feelings? For _Anora?_ I have been accused of obtuseness once or twice, sure, but working myself into infatuation for a woman who literally impaled me once upon a time? That’s borderline self-destructive, don’t you think?”

Fel smiled wider and said nothing, damn her. Siv knew this trick—the one where Fel would wait in patient silence for the other party to fill it with whatever she wanted to know. It worked magic everywhere from the Great Convenings of the drachenmarchs to conversations with Celestrium Highdrachen and their bonded.

Siv would not fall for it.

“Even _if_ I had managed to cultivate a grudging respect for her work ethic and kindness, and an appreciation of the truly bizarre juxtaposition of towering height and smooth skin and dense muscle Solastrians seem to be made of, I’m not the one she proposed a political marriage to,” Siv said, making sweeping gestures with her hands as she spoke.

Okay, she fucking fell for it.

“We can choose the high path or the low, Siv. I’d much rather take the high and hear the truth from your lips, since I have already felt it in the bond.”

“You sure we can’t jump a cliff and pray for water?” Fel narrowed her eyes, which made Siv flop back onto the pillows with an exaggerated groan, if only to escape the all-seeing perception there. “Fine, I _like_ Anora. A lot. I wish to every ancestor and spirit I _didn’t_ like her, not the least because I’ve botched all attempts at kindness I’ve made before last night. But she’s… I don’t know. Not what I expected at all, but in the good way.” Siv let out a hiss more drachen than human. “My life would be much easier without this perpetual fascination. Especially because one, I don’t think she shares my feelings at all, and two, I don’t have the authority to make an alliance.”

“Thank you, heart.” Fel leaned down to place a chaste kiss on the curve of Siv’s shoulder before continuing. “In regard to the alliance, which the Highdrachen have finally given their agreement to, I believe I have a solution. Though I do not know if love will enter the equation, I like and respect Anora. She is everything Solastria has generally _not_ been in our memory: earnest, kind, brave, compassionate, empathetic. I would gladly put my name down on any agreements or treatises and, as you so aptly put it, jump a cliff and pray for water about the rest.”

“There’s a ‘but’ there. I feel it.”

“But,” Fel continued with a low chuckle, “if we are to attempt a clean slate, I would have it truly be clean. You rule Celestrium with me, Siv. You have every authority to offer her the same partnership and have it stand the test of light, though my preference would be to have all three us involved as a united front… at least for the political side.”

“And for the personal side?”

“I think Anora deserves to know about your feelings for her. At best, she may even return them, and at worst, she should be equipped with the knowledge to make an informed decision about binding herself and her lands to us.” Fel reached and tilted Siv’s face toward her with infinite gentleness. “And selfishly, I would like to see you find happiness and healing with her, if such a thing ends up being possible. All the better if it finds the three of us together someday.”

Siv leaned into the touch and allowed her eyes to drift closed, trying to still the wild beating of her heart and steady her rapid breath. “Every day I thank the stars for the gift of your love,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Fel’s fingers.

“And I you, dear heart. Though… you may wish to withhold your gratitude until after you speak with Anora.” Fel’s laugh was gentle as she threaded her claws through Siv’s loose hair. “I suspect you will not find it easy.”

“Understatement of the turn, without a doubt.”

Siv would do as Fel asked. She would. But for now, she’d enjoy a few more stolen moments with Fel, with Grayix and Luyix and their immense affection through the bond, reassuring herself that even if there was no water at the bottom of this cliff…

She’d always have a soft place to land.

* * *

Assuming this was her last season in New Lunaris, Anora would miss the moonpools most of all.

In the heat of Solastria, frequent bathing was not only necessary and encouraged but also a source of camaraderie between friends. She missed the easy, friendly touch of Lelwa or her other friends or attendants as they massaged her scalp, worked citrus-scented scrubs onto hard-to-reach places, and combed scented oils through what hair she had left after shaving it to show the royal marks. What had been a social affair for Anora had become, as many other things had, lonely in New Lunaris.

The moonpools were the silver lining.

She wasn’t ashamed to admit she took advantage of her status as honored guest to use the private, palatial moonpools. There was normal water available for functional bathing (and Anora had been meaning to ask where such water came from, since it was fresh, and they were surrounded by ocean) but the moonpools were a different affair entirely. Since the sunseason arrived, Anora often found herself immersed in the outdoor moonpool, sinking into its warmth as she might a sauna back home. As with so many elements of Celestrium culture, it varied with the changing phases of the celestial body they drew their power from; this close to the full moon, the waters emitted a bright silver glow, so close to the golden light of the Dawnplains of Solastria it made her heart ache.

With matters of a political alliance left in the hands of the Most Illuminate Star Fel Nyxwyrm, Anora having exhausted any further contributions or concessions she could make to the pages upon pages of treaty they’d drawn up together, she resolved to enjoy her remaining time in Celestrium.

If they were to be her final days before war began anew, let them be peaceful ones.

To that end, she floated on her back in the moonpool, arms and legs spread wide as the stars sparkled above her. She barely had to take a full breath for the water to buoy her high, the soothing energy easing the aches and pains from her body. Her ride with Siv at Nightrise had left her sore in ways she hadn’t expected, but she wouldn’t have traded it for all the world. As much as Anora tried to keep her thoughts _away_ from the sleek, sharp woman, they kept returning to her, pulled in by a gravity she had no way of defying. Though she didn’t share Lelwa’s choice to avoid sex and romance altogether, Anora needed the spark of emotional connection before she felt the drive toward either of those things. She’d been willing to forgo it entirely if required to bring Solastria and Celestrium together.

Instead…

Instead, spirits take her foolishness, Siv had blown on the embers of her heart and threatened to ignite the flame altogether.

Lelwa’s moral tale and subsequent prompting had cast certain choices Siv had made in a more flattering, if still unideal, light. And though she’d been furious at the intrusion on her time with Rayveth, Anora had been at her most tired and vulnerable; the intensity of her reaction had more to do with the weight she bore and less to do with Siv herself. Once she’d stopped behaving like Anora was a traitor in disguise and glaring daggers at her every chance she got, she was even _funny_ , clever and striking and magnetic in a way Anora had never experienced before.

And Nightrise… it had been an offering. But of what, and if she could accept whatever the offering might be… Anora didn’t know.

She sighed long and quiet into the night, her eyelids awash with the faint silver glow of the moonpool. Working herself in circles about Siv was not relaxing, so she tried to cast it from her mind again.

Of course, luck was never quite on Anora’s side.

“Anora?” By now, she couldn’t fail to recognize Siv’s voice, not after nearly two seasons of hearing it. “Oh, damnation, I’m uh… intruding.”

It took every ounce of regal pride and bearing for Anora to gracefully invert herself in the water, her toes brushing the bumpy bottom of the pool. Once she’d re-oriented, she glanced toward the entrance to the balcony and found Siv, her back turned presumably to give Anora privacy.

“You’re not intruding,” Anora said, wading through the water in the direction of the doors leading back to the palace. “Unless nudity makes you uncomfortable. I never asked about Celestrium sensibilities on that front.”

“Somewhere in the middle, I guess? Not as free with our bodies as the eaudrachen or the Solastrians—apparently—though not as reserved as the terdrachen. If any of the drachenmarchs have managed mating through their clothes, I’m sure they have.” Siv’s snorted, her usual humor back in play, though she stayed facing away. “I’d like to speak with you. It can wait until you’re finished.”

Anora grinned since Siv couldn’t see it. Finally, something she felt she had the upper hand in here. “If _you’re_ comfortable, we can speak here. It’s a gorgeous night.”

Siv rotated as slow as a planet on its axis. “Trying to keep me off balance. More politically savvy than you look, young queen.” She smoothed her hands over her sleeveless, knee length tunic, Nightrise grey gone and replaced with the black Anora was accustomed to.

“Who said anything about keeping you off balance? If I wanted to do that, I’d ask you to join me.” As soon as the words passed her lips, Anora’s pulse quickened. Stars, she truly was fanning the flames. What if she’d overstepped?

With a tilt of her head, Siv took a few steps forward. “There is something you should know about me, Anora, if we’re going to be allied moving forward.” She bent to undo her silver sandals, a dexterous pull at the laces of both and loosening them before toeing them off.

“What would that be?” She considered it a point in her favor that she kept her tone steady as Siv unbelted her tunic and shrugged out of it.

“I haven’t met a challenge I’ve backed down from yet,” Siv replied, pulling off her undergarments and dropping them atop her discarded tunic.

Anora forced herself to keep her eyes locked to the twin black pools of Siv’s gaze, though not before getting a significant eyeful of pert breasts and scaled skin and slim thighs on the way there. She may be used to nudity, but she definitely wasn’t used to _Siv’s_ stripping down in front of her, and she could only hope the flush in her cheeks stayed muted. “Hasn’t the issue between our peoples been the assumption of challenge where none existed? I thought I’ve been here for two seasons trying to fix that.”

Siv began to descend the carved steps leading down into the wide pool, chin high and motions confident. If she was bothered to be joining Anora or by her own nakedness, she didn’t show it. “I heard a rumor you’d been rather successful on that front. It’s one of the reasons I’m here, actually.”

Suddenly grateful for a buoyant pool of water to brace her buckled knees, Anora raised a curious eyebrow at Siv. Now her heart pounded double-time, once quickened for the way the glowing water clung to Siv’s slender hips, twice-quickened for the hope her words lit in Anora. “One of the reasons?”

When Siv was a careful arm’s length away she stopped. (Anora tried and failed not to mourn the loss of her stunning breasts, nipples pierced with gold rings, as they dipped beneath the surface of the water— then cursed herself for noticing at all). The ends of her hair, still mostly dry in its high tail, clung in sleek tendrils to her shoulders, and her jet-black eyes were full of some unreadable emotion.

“Yeah. One.” Siv took a deep breath. “I have an answer and a question for you, and while this wasn’t exactly… how I imagined this going, I guess it makes sense given how these past two seasons have played out as a whole.” Face tilted up to look at Anora, her smile was both hopeful and apprehensive. “Do you want the answer or the question first?”

“The answer,” Anora replied without hesitation, hardly daring to breathe.

Siv nodded. “The Highdrachen and the Court of Stars has agreed to the terms of the Celestrium and Solastria alliance. By the end of the season, you’ll have your peace.”

Anora stared openly. It took several seconds for the words to sink in. The alliance would move forward. The terms were acceptable.

There would be no more war.

“Really?” she asked, unable to stave the tremor from her voice.

“No, I just came out here and stripped naked, got in the moonpool, and raised your hopes to pull a jest over on you.” At Anora’s crestfallen expression, Siv raised her hands from the water and waved them back and forth. “I’m kidding! Of course I’m serious. Fel would have my head on a pike if I were anything but serious about this.”

By reflex, Anora skimmed her palm across the surface of the water and sent a light splash toward Siv. “Damnation, Siv, you’re going to stop my heart!” She raised a hand to her chest and placed her palm against her breast, as if the touch could slow her heart in truth. “That is… that is wonderful, wonderful news.”

“Wait until you hear the question.” Siv flicked her forefinger and sent a tiny stream of water flying at Anora. “Though you should know that regardless of your answer to it, the alliance stays.”

Curiosity had always been Anora’s fatal flaw. After all, it had been half the reason she’d come up with this wild plan to come to Celestrium in the first place. Effervescent, lighter than she’d been in years, Anora caught Siv’s eye and smiled. “The only way to find out is to ask it.”

Silence stretched between them, only the ambient noise of city life and drachen audible in the distance. Siv cast her gaze toward the stars, looking for all the world as if she were in prayer, or searching for a sign among their fixed points, then fixed Anora with a grave expression.

“You— _Stars,_ this is difficult.” The atmosphere shifted, a palpable tension thickening the air between them. Were Siv’s cheeks a darker grey than usual?

After a breath, Siv re-started. “I like you, Anora. Yes, I know I haven’t done the best job at showing it. As soon as I recognized you, I wanted to hate you, for all the good it did me. I spent so much time scrutinizing you, searching for any kind of flaw to hold against you and keep fueling that anger, but no matter how hard I looked… I couldn’t find any. At least none that mattered in the big picture. And then I found I’d gotten so used to looking at you that I couldn’t look away. It’s like gazing at the sun: painful if you spend too much time staring at it, but bright and warm and beautiful, too.” She shifted in the water, gaze roving across the sky until it finally met Anora’s. “All this to say… if you felt the same, or thought you could feel the same, would you bond with me? In name for politics, at least. And maybe, eventually, in heart and spirit too.”

Anora reeled. A wave of vertigo swept through her and threatened to knock her off her feet. Of all the questions she’d expected, of all the words she imagined Siv having to speak to her, those felt impossible.

But not unwelcome.

Beneath the water, Anora reached for where she desperately hoped Siv’s hand was, sighing in relief as her broad palm clasped around Siv’s fingers. “Now who’s trying to knock who off balance?” she asked, tone giddy and lilting.

“Anora, that is not a yes or no answer, and I’m _truly_ out of my comfort zone here,” Siv said, casting her eyes skyward once more and heaving an impressive sigh—though when Anora gave her hand a comforting squeeze, she returned the gesture.

“What about Fel?”

“Who exactly do you think told me to march my ass out here and tell you how I felt so everyone could be on the same page before any treaties were signed?” Siv quipped, squeezing Anora’s hand like she’d drown if she stopped. Her words came faster, tone explanatory. “I meant what I said earlier. If you want only one of us, or both of us, we can adjust. And if you want neither of us beyond an arrangement of convenience, we’ll find a way to move—”

“May I kiss you?” Anora blurted, cutting Siv off mid-sentence.

It was Siv’s turn to gape, deep purple lips falling open in a round ‘o’ of surprise. “Here? Right now?”

“Preferably before the next epoch arrives,” Anora teased.

“Then yes.” Then, so quiet it was nearly lost beneath the slosh of water, “Please.”

Anora stepped forward in the water, still holding on to Siv’s hand beneath its surface. Her other hand cupped Siv’s cheek, thumb tracing a path along her sharp jaw. The airy glee that filled her chest wasn’t unlike the moment she saw Siv flying back for her at Nightrise. The feeling when Siv stood on her toes, buried her fingers in the close-cropped strands of Anora’s hair, and pulled her down until she could press her lips to Anora’s…

That, she had no comparison for. The closest she could come was the dizzying spiral through the night sky on Siv’s back, brilliant and breath stealing and elated. And when the kiss continued, deepened until Anora knew the taste of Siv’s tongue against her own, the velvet warmth of her open mouth and gentle puffs of her breath…

Anora had her answer.

“Yes,” she said quietly after they parted, holding Siv’s midnight gaze, relishing in the press of her body beneath the water. “I will bond with you in name.”

Siv smiled, brighter than the highest star in the sky. “Really? In name only after _that_ kiss? You’re a hard queen to impress.”

“Well…” Anora began, trailing off to steal one more lingering press of her lips to Siv’s, relishing in the way it fanned the ember in her chest, stoked the fire in her blood.

“I have a feeling my heart won’t be far behind at all.”


	7. VII

**VII**

> _Honored Protectorate of the Drachenmarchs,_
> 
> _As you have doubtless heard, the drachenmarchs of Celestrium and Solastria have come to a formal, permanent cease-pact to the hostilities between them. In addition to the indefinite extension of the cease-pact, provisions have been made for the continued alliance and relational development between the two nations._
> 
> _Though it was my intention two seasons ago to solidify our peace via marriage (or becoming a bondmate, as it is known in Celestrium) to the Illuminate Star Fel Nyxwyrm, circumstances necessitated a change in plans. It is my pleasure to announce I have bonded with the Penumbral Star Siv Venwyrm, First Among the Court of Stars, with plans to formalize a triplicate bond including the Illuminate Star herself later this season. It is my further pleasure to report that the integration of our drachen proceeds with better results than expected; I have successfully deepened my bond with Rayveth in the ways of the lunar court, which has led to her subsequent connection to Highdrachen Lufelyix and Highdrachen Grasivyix._
> 
> _Enclosed is the full eighty-two sheet document for your perusal. In order to expedite this process, I have included the relevant points regarding the re-entry of both Celestrium and Solastria to the Protectorate below:_
> 
>   * _In order to ensure continuing communication and development of our fledgling alliance, Flaremarch Lelwa’lelwaraj lee Shiveth has agreed to begin joint rulership of Solastria alongside myself. Primarily, their role will be to facilitate necessary governmental functions during my absences from Solastria._
>   * _In regard to said absences, I have agreed to spend a minimum of a season in Celestrium throughout a given turn. Though I do not speak for New Lunaris, as outlined in the accompanying treatises, it is imperative that I maintain a strong connection with both my bondmates and the needs of Celestrium as a whole._
>   * _An exchange program between our two nations is in development with plans to launch beginning next season. It is our hope that, if this program proves successful, we will be able to open our borders to such exchanges between other drachenmarchs if they so desire._
>   * _Trade routes for supplies between both nations have been re-opened and are increasing in volume day by day._
>   * _Ongoing education to crechechildren of both Solastria and Celestrium that examines the full nature and impact of the Eclipse War will be implemented. We hope such education will alleviate the loss suffered in Solastria’s Forgetting and hold both nations to accountability._
>   * _A reparations program is in development between Solastria and Celestrium; once appropriate measures have been determined, I have sworn to uphold them to the best of my ability._
> 

> 
> _The rest of the information can be found in the included documentation. In closure, I will break with Protectorate protocol and provide a distinctly personal statement._
> 
> _Though I will accept any decision the Protectorate makes in regard to our re-admission to the greater society of the drachenmarchs at large, it is my fervent hope we are given the chance to prove our renewed relations and connection. The evidence may be anecdotal, but I found my life irrevocably, wonderfully, and beautifully changed because I took a chance everyone called foolish and impossible. That chance was choosing to open my mind (and later, my heart) to a people most of mine had written off entirely. By, as a woman I have come to love once urged me to do, being brave enough to find the common ground between us._
> 
> _All I ask—all_ we _ask_ — _of the Protectorate is to extend us the same grace and compassion we have found in each other._
> 
> _Yours in courtesy and hope,_
> 
> _Flarequeen Anora’anoraj lee Rayveth, Scintillant Star of Celestrium_
> 
> _Fel Nyxwyrm, Illuminate Star of Celestrium, and Her Honored Highdrachen Lufelyix_
> 
> _Siv Venwyrm, Penumbral Star of Celestrium, and Her Honored Highdrachen Grasivyix_


	8. after.

**after.**

Two Turns Later

_I can fly no faster, little one. You have to find patience._

Anora laughed into the wind, thumping her hand against the scales of Rayveth’s massive neck. _I know, I know, sorry. I’m just so excited! It feels like it’s been an epoch._

_It has been one change of season, as it has since the beginning. Your heart plays tricks on your perception of the world turning._

There was no denying that particular bit of wisdom from her Highdrachen. Anora sent a wordless wave of agreement through their link, a bond deeper now than ever thanks to their connection with Siv, Grayix, Fel, and Luyix. Even the mere thought of their names made her heart soar in her chest like her and Rayveth soared through the budding autumn air. Now, at the tail end of two full days worth of travel to get to Celestrium, excitement smothered Anora’s fatigue. As though picking up on her energy, Rayveth beat her wings a touch harder, propelling them towards New Lunaris.

If home was where your heart remained even when your body had gone, then she and Rayveth were almost home.

* * *

No more endless meetings of the Court of Stars or the assembled lunarblooded Highdrachen. No more Protectorate bullshit. No more dawn-tinged late nights pouring over so many papers Siv felt cross eyed just thinking about it. No more crisis waiting to be resolved as soon as Anora—her bondmate, _their_ bondmate—touched her feet to New Lunarian ground.

If the anxious impatience of waiting for their sun to return and light up their lives again was the worst part of tonight, Siv would gladly accept it.

Fel, lustrous as her namesake in a frost-coloured gown draped with diamond studded tulle, turned her face to the east. “She comes.”

Sure enough, when Siv closed her eyes and focused on the bond between them, Anora and Rayveth’s presence filled her as soon as she reached for it—honey sweet, yet rich and complex as wine, burning with the intensity and passion Siv (and Fel) had come to love. It was a link that shouldn’t have been possible, and yet…

What had Anora said, in her first letter? That she didn’t believe in impossible? She couldn’t have known how true her words would prove.

The homecoming of the Scintillant Star had, despite Anora’s insistence to the contrary, turned into a grandiose public affair. Like Nightrise, the inhabitants of New Lunaris were given a night of rest, and those who chose celebrated in the palatial square with bonfires and singing and flowers in every colour one could name. Artists brought their paintings of Solastrian landscapes or sculpted miniatures of sunblooded drachen, and knowing Anora’s love of sweets, bakers peddled their finest offerings on homecoming eve. The fire-hearted queen was beloved by the peoples of Celestrium.

It was, Siv thought, an extremely relatable sentiment.

Mindful of her audience, Fel’s smile was reserved—though wide enough to show her sharp, lovely fangs. Since she preferred to show her affection in private, it was a testament to her mood when she reached for Siv, settling her hand on the dip in Siv’s waist and giving it a tender squeeze.

_Rayveth is close enough now. We will go to greet her properly,_ Luyix said through the bond. Grayix added his assent, and then both of them launched from the wide audience balcony of the Stellarium, becoming no more than slate grey and pearl blurs in their haste.

_Don’t keep her overlong,_ Fel replied. _We are all tired of waiting._

_Ain’t that the truth,_ Siv added.

Anora always did have an impeccable sense of timing. As Siv scoured the sky, freshly dipped in the dark ink of night, she spotted a red dot in the distance. The dot grew larger and larger until it resolved to the unmistakable shape of Rayveth—sunrise scales, two horns not unlike those of bulls roaming the terdrachen lands, noon bright eyes blazing in the night. Siv pushed a pulse of welcome and tenderness through the link and smiled to feel Rayveth return it like a searing bolt of warmth.

And of course, there was Anora.

_Think she’ll jump?_ Siv asked, grinning.

_I know she will. You made a daredemon of her on the first Nightrise,_ Fel replied, eyes sparkling with mirth while she kept her gaze focused on the sky. _But I will guide her safe to ground._

True to Fel’s prediction, once Rayveth (and Luyix and Grayix, lingering beside her) had made her way to the Stellarium, close enough to make out the shape of her scales, Anora stood atop Rayveth’s back. Her balance was impressive, Siv would give her that. She barely had time to admire it before Anora leapt off Rayveth, body soaring in a downward arc. Her cry of delight was picked up by the gathered crowd, drachen roars and human cheers rising to meet her even as she succumbed to gravity.

Fel lifted her scepter up, eyes locked on Anora, and the Illuminate Star (relic, not woman) began to emit a steady, crystal clear light. The same hue wrapped Anora like a protective cushion, slowing her fall as she descended toward the balcony. Siv raced to the edge of the platform, sandaled feet slapping against polished limestone, grinning so hard it hurt.

The Illuminate Star may have had to maintain some kind of decorum, but Siv would do no such thing.

The sight of the Flarequeen, her bondmate—her beautiful, kind, wonderful, loving wife, to borrow the Solastrian term—was almost as good as flying. Once Anora’s feet were safely on the ground, the glow of Fel’s magic faded, and Siv was swept up in her strong arms, whirled around in dizzying circles and laughing right along with Anora. Anora buried her face in Siv’s hair, pressing a few hurried kisses to her tresses before finally setting her down.

“Welcome home,” Siv said, breathless and smiling, heart bright as the full moon. Though she wanted nothing more than to bask in the warmth of Anora’s presence, she stepped aside and summoned some measure of politeness, clearing the way to Fel.

One didn’t simply pick the Illuminate Star up and spin her around like a top, but there was tenderness all the same. Anora crossed the platform to Fel, gold eyes shining (and did they have a bit of a glow of their own, or was it simply joy? Siv would have to investigate). Fel extended her free hand once Anora was within reach, which Anora took in her own, turning it over and placing the softest of kisses to her pulse point. Then, because Anora was Anora, she drew Fel into an embrace anyway, palms on the thick curves of Fel’s hips and forehead resting against the Illuminate Star’s.

The crowd (and Siv) approved.

* * *

Dragging Fel and Anora to the royal chambers was a perfectly acceptable part of the evening once the requisite rounds had been made in the city. Naturally, this made it Siv’s favourite part of homecoming.

In private there were no such reservations about propriety.

The sweet, sharp groans Anora made every time Siv bit and sucked at the firm planes of her skin, at the tender juncture where hip met thigh, were better than any music she’d heard. It was hard to know where to direct her focus, truth be told. Admiring her handiwork—the spilled ink of bruises along Anora’s strong brown thighs where Siv had staked her claim, the red crescents stamped by her teeth—made her feel extraordinary. So did the sight of Anora’s cunt glistening between those same spread legs, gorgeous dusky rose folds nestled in a bed of dark curls. Her swollen clit begged to be licked and sucked, and Siv would get there. Eventually.

As much as Siv would like to take full credit for the darkened stain of wetness Anora had left on the sheets below her, it would be unfair. After all, Fel had straddled Anora’s face at the first opportunity, and was currently rocking and grinding her generous hips against her mouth, taking her pleasure with abandon. Waves of unbound hair spilled down her back, pearl horns glinting in the light as she gripped the headboard with one hand and Anora’s hair with the other. Though she couldn’t see Fel’s expression from this angle, the high moans cascading into light growls as she got closer and closer made Siv ache between her legs. It was a perfect loop; the faster Fel rode Anora’s tongue, the more muffled moans Anora made with her face buried in Fel’s cunt, which drew more noises from Fel. Add in the openly flowing pleasure in their bond as well as their bodies, and, well…

Siv decided she couldn’t wait anymore. She placed one hand on Anora’s thigh to brace herself, the other between her legs to spread the slick lips of her pussy apart before lowering her mouth to Anora’s clit. The taste of her, delicious clean musk, and the sharp and intoxicating spice of her natural scent filling her lungs on every breath, drove her to distraction. She licked her way from Anora’s clit to her entrance, lapping up her wetness in eager strokes and huffing a pleased breath through her nose when Anora lifted her hips in a plea for more. Only when Siv had teased Anora by thrusting the tip of her tongue just past her entrance again and again, relishing in the increasingly desperate and muffled moans Anora gave, only _then_ did Siv return her mouth to Anora’s clit. As she began to suck with the firm pressure she knew Anora craved, she slipped two fingers inside her cunt and fucked her on them, curling them upward in pace with the motions of her mouth.

The way Anora fell apart not long after, taking Fel with her for a second time, in a crescendo of lovely sounds Siv would never get tired of—that she _would_ take full credit for.

Patience wasn’t generally Siv’s strong suit. But as she propped herself up on an elbow and watched as Fel collapsed to the bed beside Anora, laughing and exchanging lazy, breathless kisses… it was worth cultivating some patience for. Anora’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure, her close-cropped dark hair wildly mused, and Fel would be spending at least a quarter hour fixing her own. Though Siv could see the tremble in Anora’s arms as she reached for Fel, the afterglow certainly didn’t stop her from cupping Fel’s breast in her palm and gently kneading the swell of it as they continued to kiss.

Figuring that was as good a time as any, Siv cleared her throat and glanced up at them from the foot of the bed. “Is it my turn yet?”

Fel laughed, the silver glow of her limbal ring bright in the dim bedchamber as she turned her gaze to Siv. She patted the space between her thick, compact form and Anora’s tall, muscular one. “Why don’t you come here and find out, dear heart?”

And oh, did Siv find out.

It was her favourite place to be, Anora’s firm warmth pressed to the front of her and Fel’s plush softness at her back. Anora wasted no time in taking Siv’s leg, hooking it over her hips to give herself better access, and fucking her deep and slow on three fingers, the fullness and stretch of her perfect. Fel, one clawed hand carefully resting on top of Siv’s as she stroked her own clit, grazed her sharp teeth along the curve of Siv’s neck, drawing a pointed gasp from her. Anora, the gold of her eyes eclipsed by her pupils but for a slender ring, leaned in and swallowed a second gasp with a kiss, the almost-sweet taste of Fel on her lips and tongue.

When she came, arching her back against Fel and pulsing hard around Anora’s steady fingers, it was with the force of a tidal wave smashing against a cliff, powerful and all consuming. It was strong enough that, when she came back to her senses, still cradled in the embrace of her bondmates, Siv dissolved into soft, pleasure-addled laughter.

“I take it that means I haven’t lost my touch?” Anora asked, full lips curved into a tentative smile.

Siv only laughed harder.

“I believe that’s a yes,” Fel supplied, kissing the tip of Siv’s ear.

* * *

It had taken Anora the better part of the night to finally make it to the bathing chamber—though she wouldn’t complain about the way desire had sparked between her and her bondmates once again, filling the needy space created by their separation for the season. Once she was there, however, soaking in the deep tiled pool she’d brought knowledge of from Solastria, Fel resting between Anora’s legs with her back to Anora’s chest… it was perfect.

Siv, who enjoyed watching Fel and Anora relax more than she enjoyed the sensation of prolonged sitting in what she called ‘soup water’, perched on the edge of the bath. She’d found a robe and had slipped into it, but left it undone, showing tantalizing flashes of gold piercings and grey scales. Were Anora not thoroughly sated, it would be enough to fan the flames anew. Wordlessly, she handed Anora a vial of bergamot scented oil, which Anora accepted and began to work through Fel’s long tresses.

“Your hands are divine,” Fel purred, eyelids fluttering as Anora’s fingers threaded through her hair.

“Sometimes I’m convinced that’s the only reason you agreed to bond with me at all.” Anora’s heart swelled with tenderness. She moved her fingers in firm circles to massage Fel’s scalp and encouraged by the low hum in her throat, slid her hands up to the sensitive ridges of her horns. Fel shivered in her grasp, her hum growing louder as Anora spread protective oil over those too.

“That’s untrue and you’re well aware. I simply appreciate you for your many talents, of which your hands are one.”

_You are skilled at grooming. I’ve missed your scale scrubs,_ Luyix added, echoing her bonded partner’s pleasure.

“Grooming wasn’t what _I_ was thinking of when you brought up Anora’s divine hands, but sure, let’s go with that.” Siv smirked as worked a brush through her now-dry hair.

_I am cursed with a drachenkin whose only thoughts are carnal._ After two turns, it was no longer strange sharing mindspeech with two drachen and their bonded kin. Grayix’s dry humor still took Anora by surprise sometimes, and she chuckled at his words.

“I see I’m in for more work on all fronts. As usual.”

“In truth…” Fel shifted, tilting her chin to peer at Anora. “Aside from the usual reviews and audiences we set to occur every homecoming, our schedule is rather empty. It seems our hard work in the early days of our alliance has paid off.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Siv interjected. She lifted a hand and ticked off points on her fingers. “The Court of Stars didn’t give us any items of concern. The Highdrachen didn’t have anything to add either, miracle of miracles. The leaders of the ambassador program, while they want to check in with their head,”—here Siv winked knowingly at Anora—"are flying along fine without us. Not to curse us or anything, but even in my wildest dreams I never imagined this level of success.”

“Nor did I,” Fel agreed. “Siv does have the right of it, however. We find ourselves with a surplus of time this season.”

Anora thought in silence, focusing her effort on coiling Fel’s hair atop her head to rest. Once she finished, she wrapped her arms around Fel’s waist beneath the water, holding her tight. “Any ideas how you wanted to spend it?”

“A break!” Siv shimmied closer along the edge of the tub, her obsidian eyes wide with excitement. “It’s the first time ever we could leave New Lunaris, see what other sights the world holds. An adventure, just the three of us.” At rumbles from Grayix, Luyix, and Rayveth, she added, “Right, right, the six of us. You know what I meant.”

“I had imagined a spontaneous official tour of sorts now that we belong to the Protectorate in truth. I believe it would be beneficial for both Celestrium and Solastria to be seen across the other drachenmarchs. Connect with the people there. Make our mark.”

“What do you think?” Siv asked.

Anora, after a thoughtful pause, smiled at both of her bondmates in turn.

“You know… I don’t really have a preference on where we go, or what we do. As long as we do it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it all the way to the end of this, thank you so much. Comments and kudos are always loved!


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